Children's classics in dramatic form

Mi\riC F

OOK FIVE

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"RICHAKD, THY KING

CHILDREN'S CLASSICS
m DRAMATIC FORM

BOOK FIVE

BY

AUGUSTA STEVENSON

POKMERLY A TEACHER IN THE INDIANAPOLIS
PUBLIC SCHOOLS

ILLUSTRATED BY
CLAKA E. ATWOOD

ms^^^mB

BOSTON NEW TOEK CHICAGO

HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY

PM

Glxo

A5

COPYRIGHT, 191a, BY AUGUSTA STEVENSON
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

H

CAMBRIDGE . MASSACHUSETTS
U . S . A

FOREWORD

This series of books aims to serve three distinct pur-
poses: first, to arouse a greater interest in oral read-
ing; second, to develop an expressive voice — sadly
lacking in the case of most Americans ; and third,
to give freedom and grace in the bodily attitudes
and movements-which are involved in reading and
speaking. The stories given cover a varied range of
interests — dramatic incidents in the lives of famous
men and women and episodes of special significance
from literature predominating.

Children are dramatic by nature. They are for
the time the kings, the fairies, and the heroes that
they picture in their imaginations. They are these
characters with such abandon and with such intense
pleasure that the on-looker must believe that nature
intended that they should give play to this dramatic
instinct, not so much formally, with all the trappings
of the man-made stage, but spontaneously and natu-
rally, as they talk and read. If this expressive in-
stinct can be utilized in the teaching of reading, we
shall be able both to add greatly to the child's enjoy-
ment and to improve the quality of his oral reading.
In these days when so many books are hastily read

vi FOREWORD

in school, there is a tendency to sacrifice expression to
the mechanics and interpretation of reading. Those
acquainted with school work know too well the re-
sulting monotonous, indistinct speech and the self-
conscious, listless attitude which characterize so much
of the reading of pupils in grades above the third.
It is believed that these readers will aid in overcom-
ing these serious faults in reading, which all teachers
and parents deplore. The dramatic appeal of the
stories will cause the child to lose himself in the
character he is impersonating and read with a natu-
ralness and expressiveness unknown to him before,
and this improvement will be evident in all his oral
reading, and even in his speech.

The use of the books permits the whole range of
expression, from merely reading the stories effec-
tively, to " acting them out " with as little, or as much,
stage-setting or costuming as a parent or teacher
may desire. The stories are especially designed to
be read as a part of the regular reading work. Many
different plans for using the books will suggest them-
selves to the teacher. After a preliminary reading of
a story during the study period, the teacher may as-
sign different parts to various children, she herself
reading the stage directions and the other brief de-
scriptions inclosed in brackets. The italicized expla-
nations in parentheses are not intended to be read

FOREWORD vu

aloud; they will aid in giving the child the cue as
to the way the part should be rendered. After the
story has been read in this way, if thought advisable
it can be played informally and simply, with no at-
tempt at costuming or theatric effects. Occasion-
ally, for the " open day," or as a special exercise, a
favorite play may be given by the children with the
simplest kind of costuming and stage-setting. These
can well be made in the school as a part of the
manual training and sewing work. In giving the
play, it will generally be better not to have pupils
memorize the exact words of the book, but to
depend upon the impromptu rendering of their
parts. This method will contribute more largely to
the training in English.

The whole series, built up as it is from the simple
dramatic elements of Book One to the completely
developed forms of Book Five, makes an excellent
introduction to the study of the Shakespearean
plays.

The best results from this book will generally
be obtained by using it in the seventh and eighth
grades.

CONTENTS
Nathan Hale 1

Based on authentic records.

The Maid of Orleans 24

Based on authentic records. ^

The Necklace 56

Based on Guy de MaupassarWs story^ " The Necklace,"

A Christmas Carol 73

Based on Charles Dickens^s story^ " A Christmas Carol,"

Jean Valjean 109

Based on ike story of Jean Valjean in Victor Hugo'^s ' ' Les Mis^rdbles, "

The Black Pearl 142

Ba.sed on the story ^ *' The Black Pearl," by Vietorien Sardou.

IVANHOE 166

Based on episodes in Sir Walter ScotVs " Jvanhoe."

A Son of the Yemassee 205

Based on episodes in William Gilmore Simms's novel, " The Yemassee."

Evangeline 236

Based on Longfellow^ s poem, " Evangeline."

The Treason of Benedict Arnold .... 261

Based on atUhentic records.

The Man without a Country 304

Based on the story, " The Man without a Country," by Edward Everett Hale.
By permission of Little, Brown, <fe Co.

ILLUSTRATIONS

" EiCHABD, THY KiNG." (See page 189) Frontispiece

" Now THAT SHOWS TOU DON't KNOW ANYTHING

about the military life" . . ... 15

"Make way! Make way! The Maid! The

Maid!" 47

" The necklace — I have lost it ! "... . 63

" In life I WAS YOUR partner, Jacob Mabley " 83

" Nineteen years ! and now the yellow pass-
port!" 123

"And I have succeeded! I have succeeded,

I tell you ! " 145

" Do not leave a wounded man ! Stay —

STAY — I PRAY you!" 171

"Let not Sanutee see those gifts!" . . . 213

" See the smoke and the flashes of flame ! " 245

" Look ! A PAPER ! " 281

"Philip Nolan, hear the sentence of the

Court!" 313

CHILDREN'S CLASSICS IN
DRAMATIC FORM

BOOK FIVE

NATHAN HALE

Nathan Hale
KiCHARD Hale, Nathan's Third Officer.

Father.
Richard, Nathan's

Cousin.
First Bot. •
Second Bot.
Third Boy.
Fourth Bot.
Fifth Bot.
Sixth Bot.
Seventh Bot.
First Girl.
Second Girl.
Third Girl.
Fourth Girl.
Fifth Girl.

ObIDIAH. 'i'

General Washington.
Colonel Knowlton.
First Officer.
Second Officer.

Fourth Officer.

Major.

Captain.

Lieutenant.

Sergeant.

First British Soldier.

Second British Soldier.

Third British Soldier.

First Hessian.

Second Hessian.

Laxindress.

Teamster. ^

First Cowbot.

Second Cowboy.

A British Soldier.

A British Aide.

Cunningham, Provost-
Marshal.

Lieutenant of the
Guard.

U. S. Officers, British Soldiers, Cowbots.

NATHAN HALE

ACT I

Time : 1775 ; an April morning.
Place : iVeto London, Connecticut ; the Union Gram-
mar School.

\_The schoolroom is seen with its low ceiling
and rows of desks. Enter several Boys between
twelve and fifteen years of age. They look toward
the teacher's desk."]

First Boy. Well, you see — I said the master
had not come.

Second Boy. Perhaps he won't — the troops
march away today.

Third Boy. He '11 come — it would n't be like
him to forget us.

\_They hang their hats on pegs in the wall. Enter
Obidiah, a country hoy, with a great woolen muffler
around his neck; he wears boots and carries
a dinner pail. He looks about.']

Obidiah. Where 's the master ?

Fourth Boy. He is n't here — he went to the
meeting last night, and —

Obidiah. What meeting ?

Boys (astonished). What meeting 1

Fifth Boy. Don't you know ?

Sixth Boy. Have n't you heard ?

Seventh Boy. Does n't your father know ?

First Boy. Did n't he go to the meeting ?

Second Boy. Did n't your folks tell you ?

NATHAN HALE 3

Third Boy, Did n't anybody tell you ?

Obidiah. Did something happen ?

Boys. War!

Obidiah. War?

Boys. War !

Obidiah. Where? When? Who?

FmsT Boy. Lexington — yesterday!

Second Boy. The British soldiers fired on oar
minute men !

Third Boy. And killed eight of them, Obidiah !

First Boy. And then our minute men turned
on the British and drove them bach to Boston !

Second Boy. And they mean to drive^ them to
their ships and make them leave the country !

Obidiah (excited and bewildered). How do you
know ? Who told you ?

Third Boy. A messenger. He rode all day, post
haste, from Lexington.

Fourth Boy. And he 's riding through the coun-
try now, telling everyone !

Fifth Boy. And a town meeting was called last
night, even if it was Sunday !

Sixth Boy. And Mr. Hale made a speech and
urged the people to take up arms at once !

Seventh Boy. And then a company was formed,
and Mr. Hale enrolled as a volunteer !

Obidiah (growing more and more excited). Hur-
rah ! Hurrah for Mr. Hale! — but — isn't he com-
ing today?

4 NATHAN HALE

'[Enter several Girls, sad and tearful.']

First Girl. Where is the master?

First Boy. We are waiting for him.

Second Girl. We came to say good-bye to him.
You know we have a class with him on Saturdays.

Third Girl, And we are afraid he will go to the
war and we 'U never see him again.
[She weeps silently.']

Fourth Girl (sobbing). He has been so good to us !

Fifth Girl. We can't bear to see him go !
[All the Girls hide their faces and turn away.]

Second Boy (looking out door). He's coming!
The master is coming !

[The Boys take their seats quietly. Enter Nathan
Hale, a splendid young man about twenty years
of age — tall, strong, and athletic. His face is
kindly and very intelligent. He wears a broad
brimmed hat, which he now hangs on a peg.]

Hale. Good morning, boys !

Boys. Good morning, master !

Hale (seeing the weeping girls huddled together
in a corner). Why, what is this, young ladies ?

First Girl. We thought you might be going —

Second Girl. We came to say good-bye, sir.

Hale (gravely). I am goings — I have come to
say good-bye. Nay, do not weep ! Think what you
can do while the soldiers are away in the field.
There's not one of you who cannot help to make
blankets and clothing for us.

NATHAN HALE 5

Third Girl. Yes — yes! We all know how to
spin !

Hale. You boys will be needed on the farms ; you
will have to take the place of men now. And you
will not shirk — I know the mettle you are made of.

First Boy. I'ddoanythingto help my country, sir.

Boys. And I! And I !

Hale. Then we are sure of winning. England
will find there 's no subjecting a country where even
the boys and girls are patriots. And now we must
part — we march today to Boston. Come, give me
your hands.

\_The children surround Sale.]

Obidiah. You'll come back, won't you, master?

Hale. I hope to, my lad. Good-bye, my pupils !
Good-bye, good-bye to all of you !

\_IIe shakes hands with them as they pass out,
showing real affection for them. Pause. Hale col-
lects his books and papers. Miter Richard Hale,
his father^

Hale. Father! You know?
\^He crosses hastily and grasps his father's hand.]

Father. Yes, I received your letter at Coventry
this morning. I came at once. So you have.enlisted ?

Hale. I hope you will not object —

Father. Object ! No ! I wish that I could go to
the front myself !

Hale. Is mother reconciled ?

Father. To give you up — no. But she 's brave

6 NATHAN HALE

about it, Nathan. She 's planning now to save all our
wool for blankets for the soldiers. And we 've both
agreed that not a penny shall be spent for anything
but necessities.

\_Enter Kichard, Hale's cousin, a careless, slouchy
young manJ]

Richard. Good day to you, Uncle Richard ! The
same to you, cousin Nathan !

[The men turn, showing some displeasure.)

I was told you had come in from Coventry, Uncl6,
and I thought I should find you here with Nathan.

Father [coldly). It is something special? If not —

Richard. It is a very pressing matter. In fact,
I find I must borrow some money ; so, of course, I
came to you.

Father. And why to me ? You know that I am
not pleased with your manner of life, nor with your
constant intimacy with Tories.

Richard. I mean to mend my ways —

Father. So you have said before, with every loan
I have made you.

Richard. Ah, but this time I am in earnest. Now
I need one hundred dollars today —

Father. Have you enlisted ?

Richard. Enlisted? Ha, ha! Do you think I'd
take sides in this foolish scare ?

Hale. Do not call it foolish, sir. Blood has been
shed at Lexington — the blood of loyal American
soldiers.

NATHAN HALE 7

Richard. Be that as it may, the King is the one
■who has the power — no use, to struggle against
it.

, Father. You are satisfied to see us bowed be-
neath the weight of unjust taxes, are you ?

Hale. And you think it no use to struggle against
our oppressors — these brutal men that the King
sends here ?

Richard. No use whatever. Things are as they
are, and as they were meant to be.

Father. Then continue to need your hundred
dollars, sir, in accordance with your opinion.

Richard. Do you mean to refuse me a loan?

Father. I do refuse you. And I shall not have
one cent to loan till this unhappy war is over.

Richard. Perhaps you couldhelp me out, Nathan?

Hale. My money must go for a soldier's outfit,
cousin.

Richard. Do you know that I could denounce
you both as rebels to the King's officers in Boston ?

Hale. I denounced myself when I enlisted.

Father. Go, and never presume to call me uncle
. again.

Richard (going). You'll rue this day! (To
Nathan.) You '11 rue this day, I tell you !
l^Exit angrily.]

Father. I am ashamed that a Hale can be a Tory !

Hale. I'll try to make up for it, father, when I
get to the front.

8 NATHAN HALE

Father. You will, my son — I have the greatest
confidence in you.

Hale. I am what you have made me, father, — a
patriot.

]_They clasp handsJ]

ACT II

Time : 1776, September Ijth.

Place : American camp on Harlem Heights — Wash-
ington's headquarters.

\_A council of war is being held hy Washington
and his Generals.]

Washington. Gentlemen, we have gone over
every detail thoroughly, and are, as yet, no nearer
the solution. We must come to some conclusion to-
day. I consider our position perilous.

First Officer. Your Excellency, I would suggest
that a spy be employed to find out the intentions of
the British.

Washington. What is your opinion of that course,
officers?

Second Officer. I do not see what else we can
do. We have not been able to fiind out anything
about their movements, except that there is great ac-
tivity in their camp on Long Island.

Third Officer. General Washington, as every-
thing depends upon obtaining inteUigence of the en-
emy's motions, I do earnestly entreat you to employ
a spy.

NATHAN HALE 9

Fourth Officer. And I, your Excellency, do
add my voice to that entreaty.

Washington. Do the officers agree ?

Officers. Aye !

Washington. I fear there is nothing else to be
done. We shall need a competent person for this
work — a man on whose judgment and fidelity im-
plicit reliance can be placed. Therefore, I shall ask
you. Colonel Knowlton, to find an officer for this
service from your noted regiment of Connecticut
Rangers.

Knowlton. They are all men to be trusted, your
Excellency. Shall I summon my officers at once ?

Washington. Immediately. The man chosen must
depart tonight.

{Colonel Knowlton salutes. Exit.)

It is a method I do not like — this spying upon
our enemy ; and yet, in a great prisis like this, it
seems to be unavoidable.

\^Enter tCoLONEL Knowlton and Officers.]

Knowlton {saluting). Your Excellency, I have
summoned all my officers, excepting one whose late
illness has left him too weak for this work. I refer to
Captain Nathan Hale.

Washington. You did right to omit him. Colo-
nel. The service required is arduous for a man in
perfect condition. Officers, I will conceal nothing
from you. You know the wretched condition of our
army now. The soldiers are suffering from lack of

10 NATHAN HALE

food and clothing. Not more than one third are fit
for duty in the field. Yet we are confronted with a
great army of the British, whose plans we cannot
even conjecture. Will they make a direct attack upon
New York ? Will they land above the city or below
it ? Will they surround us and cut us off both from
the mainland above and from our troops still left in
the city? The British have a large army, splendidly
equipped. To meet them we must concentrate our
forces. But where ? That is the point we cannot de-
cide until we know something of their intentions.
And this must be effected. The special method to
be employed I shall leave your Colonel to tell you
privately;

{Colonel Knowlton salutes.)

Generals, we will withdraw.
\_Exit General Washington and Generals. Pause.l

Knowlton. Officers, a peculiar service is required.
Who of you will volunteer to be a spy ?

{The Officers show surprise and displeasure.)

You are displeased, — I cannot blame you, — and
yet you have an opportunity to serve your country
supremely.

Captain. But a spy is scorned by all civilized
nations !

Knowlton. True, yet he may be a man of honor
and act under the inspiration of pure patriotism. I
must ask you each for an answer.

Lieutenant. I do not fear to meet the enemy in

NATHAN HALE 11

the field, but to be hanged by him is a different mat-
ter.

Others. Aye ! Aye !

[■Enter Captain Nathan Hale; he shows the
.effects of his recent illness. He remains hack and is
not seen by the others.

Knowlton. But I tell you that when the spy has
the lofty and unselfish desire of serving his country,
the act is honorable. I ask you to reconsider the
service our commander has asked of you.

Sergeant. I will serve my country in some other
way.

Officers. And I! And I ! And I !

Hale {stepping forward). I will undertake it !
\_All show surprise.^

Knowlton. You, Captain Hale ?

Hale {saluting). Yes, Colonel. An officer told me
that a spy was needed. I came at once to volunteer
my services'.

Knowlton. But you have scarce recovered —

Hale. No matter — I am ready to go.

Major. I entreat you, Nathan, to refuse. Your
fate is almost certain. I need not remind you of what
it will be.

Hale. I do not fear to meet it. I feel that I
owe my country the accomplishment of an object
80 important, and so much desired by our com-
mander.

Sergeant. You will be sacrificing all your prospects

U NATHAN HALE

in life, Nathan. Think of your father and mother
and the scores of friends who love you.
* Nathan. I do not forget them, but my duty lies
clear before me.

Lieutenant. Nathan, I beg you to refuse !

Major. It will bring dishonor upon you !

Hale. Every kind of service necessary for the pub-
lic good becomes honorable by being necessary.
\_Pause.']

Captain. You haVe rebuked us all.

Hale. You may give my name to General Wash-
ington-, Colonel, if you will.

Knowlton. Go to him now, Nathan. He will
want you to depart at once.

Hale {saluting Colonel Knowlton). I go. Fare-
well, my friends and comrades ! Farewell, Colonel !

\_Exit quickly, the Officers saluting him as he
passes.^

ACT III

Time : September Wth.

Place: Long Island ; the British camp.

\_Tents are seen with British Soldiers loung-
ing in front of them. Loud laughter is heard off.
Enter First British Soldier.]

First Soldier. There 's some fun in store for you
now !

Second Soldier. American cowboys, I suppose,
with fresh news of the rebels.

NATHAN HALE 13

First Soldier. No — it's an American school-
master !

Third Soldier. Oh, a prisoner ! .

Second Soldier. Does he hang at once ?

First Soldier. No, no, he 's a good Tory and likes
the rebels no more than we do. He 's been reciting
verses about the Whigs. Here he comes now with
some Hessians ! '

\_Enter Nathan Hale with several Hessians.
He wears a citizen's suit and a broad hrimmed
hat.l

First Hessian (slapping Hale on hack). That 's
a neat little poem about the Whigs ! Recite it again,
schoolmaster !

Soldiers. Aye ! Aye ! Recite it again !

Hale, a Whig he is a gruesome thing

That dare not raise his voice to sing,
That dare not lift his eyes to look,
For fear he_ '11 find on every book —
Engraved and inked and printed through —
The name he now himself doth rue —
The Bebel !

Soldiers. Ha, ha! Go on ! Go on !

Hale. The Whig at night doth seek his bed.
And thereupon doth lay his head —
Alas, his rest is not complete ; «
He turns him round from head to feet ;
Yet still he finds on every sheet
That word he now doth fear to meet —
The Rebel!

14 NATHAN HALE

Soldiers. Ha, ha, ha, ha !

First Hessian. So you are looking for work, are
you, schoolmaster?

Hale. Yes, I thought I might find a school
somewhere on Long Island.

Second Hessian. You don't like to teach among
the Whigs, eh?

Hale. Let me tell you - that the Whig is a very
hard man to please. Look how he grumbles about
the King himself ! How could I hope to please him?

First Soldier. You 're a good Tory, schoolmas-
ter — I can see that plain enough.

Hale. I 'm trying to make that plain enough.

Second Soldier. If you hadn't, you'd be hung
by now.

Hale. Why such haste? You're not afraid of
them, are you? Can'l you show as many men as the
rebels ?

Third Soldier. Can't we ! We have thirty thou-
sand, schoolmaster !

Hale. Then why are you here in camp idle? If
I were your general, I 'd lead you forth and con-
quer.

First Soldier. Now that shows you don't know
anything about the military life. Can't you see the
preparations for action all about you? You see
those cannon being moved ? You see those baggage
wagons ? You see the aides rushing about ? You
see those big transport vessels?

Yt<S —

"NOW THAT SHOWS YOU DON'T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT
THE MILITARY LIFE"

16 , NATHAN HALE

Hale (looking). Well, well, you have certainly
opened my eyes to things !

First Soldier. School teachers never know any-
thing but Latin.

Hale. Ha, ha !

Second Soldier. I suppose you have n't even
seen our fortifications there?

Hale (looking about). Where?

Third Soldier. Why, you 're looking straight at
them this minute.

All. Ha, ha, ha !

Hale. I see that my only value here is reciting
little poemsi.

First Soldier. You never could make a soldier,
sir, but' you 're a jolly good fellow, and we like to
have you with us.

Others. Aye ! Aye !

\_A bugle call is heard.']-

Second Hessian. The call to drill ! Come !

[Z%e Soldiers get muskets, form in line, and
march away. Hale quickly takes notebook from
pocket and tears out a leaf]

Hale (writing). Thirty thousand men — cannon
(six-pounders) — baggage wagons — transports ; and
this plan of the fortifications —
/ \_A noise is heard off. Hale quickly conceals pa-
pers and hides behind a tree. Miter a Teamster
cracking his long whip. lie passes through lazily.
Enter Aide.J

NATHAN HALE 17

Aide. Teamster ! I 've an order for you —
{Showing order ; Teamster looks at it.)

You 're to take charge of the baggage train to-
night. Provide wagons for each regiment as noted
in the order. Report within the hour.

Teamster. Aye, sir !

[Exit Aide. Exit Teamster. Hale steps for-
ward.']

Hale. That means a night attack. But where will
they cross? "Where will the attack be made? I must
find out their plans ! But how — how — ?

{He walks back and forth perplexed. He looks
off; sm,iles, showing relief)

Aha ! Here is some one I can question !
{Enter Laundress with linen.)

Good morning, good woman !

Laundress. Oh ! Are you the funny school-
master ?

Hale. I am a schoolmaster. Do they call me
funny ?

Laundress. That they do, sir ; and I 'd like to
be hearing one of your poems, sir.

Hale. You 're too busy with your work, I fear.
You 're a laundress for the officers, are you not ?

Laundress. Yes — for General Howe himself,
sir !

Hale. Ah, indeed ! You must be wpU schooled in
army life. I daresay you know what is going on in
every part of this great camp.

18 NATHAN HALE

Laundress (whispering). Sh! I know many
things, sir.

Hale {softly). Things that even some of the offi-
cers don't know ?

Laundress (proudly). Indeed I do ! I know a big
secret now, schoolmaster.

Hale (nodding). I 'm not surprised. I fancy you
know even where the troops will cross tonight.

Laundress. Yes — I know. ( Whispering.) They
mean to cross at East River.

Hale. And attack New York ?

Laundress. Yes — they will crush the rebels
completely. I heard them say so. And now the poem,
sir — the poem !

(Loud talking and laughter heard off. The
Laundress looks off and shows alarm.)

It 's cowboys ! They came to camp this morning
with forage. They 're a rough lot, schoolmaster.
They think it fun to tumble my clean clothes into a
ditch — that 's what they 've done, sir. So I '11 be go-
ing: — I'll hear your poem another time.
\_Uxit hastily.']

Hale. 'T will be safer to keep out of their way.

[ZTe conceals his papers in his shoes and goes
Enter the Cowboys, Nathan Hale's cousin, Rich-
ard, being one of them. He sees Hale.]

Richard (quickly). Who is that man ?

First Cowboy. He must be that schoolmaster the
soldiers were talking about.

NATHAN HALE 19

Second Cowboy. Let 's make him recite his verses
for us. I '11 call him —

Richard. Wait ! I think I know him — wait till
he turns — Ah/I was right — I do !
{Enter Aide. Enter several Soldiers /rom drill.)

Officer, I must have a word with you !

Aide. Quick, then ! Have n't you been paid for
the forage you brought ?

Richard. It is n't that. Do you see that man
walking down to the shore ?

Aide. I see the Tory schoolmaster.

Richard. He's no Tory — he's an officer in
General Washington's army !

Aide. You are certain?

Richard. I have known him all my life. He 's a
rebel ; he 's here to spy upon you !

Aide {to Soldiers). Capture that man — the
schoolmaster there ! If he attempts to run, shoot him !

{Soldiers go quickly. Aide turns to Soldier
who enters.)

Ask the Provost-Marshal to come !

\_Exit Soldier. Exit Aide.^

First Cowboy {looking off). They command him
to halt !

Richard. He runs !

Second Cowboy. Again they command him to
halt !

First Cowboy, See ! they are raising their guns
to fire 1

20 NATHAN HALE

Richard. He yields — they are bringing him
hither ! <

IJSnter Aide,]

Aide. Begone ! Begone ! This is a matter for the
military !

lExit Cowboys. Enter Soldiers with Nathan
"Hale. Enter Provost-Marshal Cunnengham, a
coarse, brutal man.'\

Cunningham. What is this ?

Aide. This man is suspected of being a spy.

Cunningham. Search him !

\_Soldiers begin to search Hale's clothing;
finally take off his shoes.'\

A Soldier {drawing papers from Hale's shoe).
Here are papers !

\_Hands the papers to Cunningham, who goes
through them quickly.']

Cunningham. Drawings of our fortifications and
batteries — and very accurate ones, at that. And
here are notes in Latin. What have you written,
sir ? Speak !

Hale. Descriptions of your lines of defense, of
your entrenchments and batteries.

Cunningham. And so you skulked into our camp
as a spy for your rebel generals ?

Hale. I regret that I have not been able to serve
my country better.

Cunningham. Away with him to General Howe !
You won't have long to regret, sir !

NATHAN HALE 21

ACT IV

Time : the next morning, before sunrise.
Place : room where Captain Hale is confined.

[Captain Hale is seen, calm and composed.
Three British Soldiers are on guard in the
room. Pause. Enter Lieutenant of the Guard.]

Lieutenant {kindly). Prepare yourself for the
worst, Captain Hale.

Hale. I am prepared.

Lieutenant. You know the fate of a spy ?

Hale. Yes — I do not shrink from it.

Lieutenant. You should have had a trial at
least !

Hale. A useless formality — a spy is condemned
when he is caught.

Lieutenant. I would I could do something for
you.

Hale. You are giving me your companionship,
and that is everything when a man faces death.
[Enter Cunningham.]

Cunningham. Well, you rebel, your end is near.
You '11 soon have a look at your gallows.

Hale. Will you not permit me to write my pa
rents and sisters?

Cunningham. No ! We grant no favors to rebels !

LiEUTENANTi He should be permitted to write his
friends.

«2 NATHAN HALE

' Cunningham. No, I say — no !

Lieutenant. Then I shall go to General Howe
and report your inhumanity.

Cunningham {scoffingly). Oh, very well then — if
you insist, Lieutenant. {To Hale.) You '11 have time
for only a line or two — we can't keep the gallows
flraiting.

\^Exit. The Lieutenant gets ink and paper from
a room, off. Captg,in Hale sits at the table and
writes hurriedly. Long pause. Cunningham enters
as Hale is folding letters.']

Cunningham. Well, your time has come !

Hale {rising). I am ready.

{He gives letters to Lieutenant.)

Will you have them forwarded, Lieutenant?

Lieutenant. I will. Captain Hale — I will — I
promise you.
\_Cunningham snatches letters from Lieutenant.']

Cunningham. It 's my business to forward prison-
ers' letters. And I make it my business to read them,
too.
l_He opens letters. Hale turns away with scorn.]

Lieutenant {indignantly). How dare you !

Cunningham. Silence ! I am your superior officer.
{He reads phrases from letters aloud.)

" I 've done my duty — I regret that I have failed
— our cause is just and will triumph — "

( Turning on Captain Hale angrily and tearing
letters to shreds.)

NATHAN HALE 23

So you keep up that rebel spirit to the last, do

you?

Hale. To the last. I only regret that I have but
one life to lose for my country.

THE MAID OF OKLEANS^
ACT I

Time: 1429.

Place : Domremy^ France, ; Jeanne's home.

Jeanne d'Aec,^ the Maid A Soldier.

ISABEAU,* HER MoTHER FiRST GiRL.

Jacques,^ her Father Second Girl.

DURAND LaXART,^ HER UnCLE ThIRD GiRL.

A Neighbor Fourth Girl.
The Voice

\_The living room of the cottage is seen with its
simple furniture. Isabeau d'Arc is spinning. En-
ter Jacques d'Arc. Both are peasants of the best
type.]

Jacques. Isabeau, Durand is here !

Isabeau. Oh, I am glad to hear that ! When did
he come ? Where is he ?

Jacques. He came up from his farm this morn-
ing — he came to sell his sheep. He will be here
presently.

Isabeau {rising). I must tell Jeanne. She will be
glad — she is so fond of her uncle.

Jacques. Where is Jeanne ?

1 5r' le anz (^French, Orlfens, Cr' la aN'). ^ jgj,' j^ jjjg>_

8 zhan dark'. * iz' a bo'. ' zhak. ^ du raN' la zar'.

THE MAID OP ORLEANS 25

IsABEAU. In the garden, sewing.

Jacques {looking out window). Isabeau, can
Jeanne be well?

IsABEAu. Well? Wh/ do you ask that?

Jacques. She is so quiet — and sometimes seems
so troubled —

Isabeau. I have noticed that for a long time,
Jacques ; I have questioned her about it. She always
says she is well —

\_Knocking heard at door. Jacques opens it.
Enter Duband Laxaet, a middle-aged peasant-l

Jacques. Welcome, Durand !

Isabeau. Welcome, Durand! Welcome!
. \_They shake hands."]

DuBAND. Where are the children?

Jacques. The boys are taking care of the sheep.

Isabeau. I will call Jeanne !

{She calls from window.)
Jeanne ! Jeanne ! Your uncle Durand is here !

\_8hort pause. Enter Jeanne, a strong and hand-
some girl of seventeen. She tpears the red dress of
a peasant girl.]

Jeanne. Uncle Durand ! Oh, how glad I am to
see you !

Dueand. And how is my good Jeanne? Do you
still go to church every day ?

Jeanne {bashfully). Yes, uncle.

Isabeau. Now do not tease her about that, 'Du-
rand.

26 THE MAID OP ORLEANS

They laugh at her in the village because of her faith-
fulness to the services.

Jacques. The priest is sure of seeing Jeanne, no
matter hovr cold the morning.

Jeanne. It makes me very happy to go. The
priest speaks good words, and then the beautiful
saints in the windows seem to smile down upon us
and bless the services.

Jacques. Ha, ha ! Now how could painted saints
show any care for prayers ?

Jeanne. I know not how — but I must think they
do. Their faces are so radiant ; their smiles so bright
and dazzling.

IsABBAU. 'T is but the sunlight streaming through
the windows, Jeanne.

Jeanne. I know, but it makes the saints seem
real to me.

DuEAND. And to me also, Jeanne.

Jeanne {gratefully). Ah, is it so, uncle? You
have noticed it, too?

DuRAND. Many times. They need not laugh at
you for that.

( Voices are heard chanting in the distance.)

What is that ?

IsABEAU. The priest goes to> the Fairy Tree to-
day. It must be the processioc — I will see.
{She opens the door and looks off.)

Yes — they are crossing to the wood.

DuBAND. Why do they go to the Fairy Tree?

THE MAID OF ORLEANS 27

And what is this Fairy Tree ? Remember, I am not
of Domremy.

Jacques. 'T is a great beech that stands alone at
the edge of the wood.

Jeanne. And 'tis said that some of this village
have seen fairies beneath its boughs, and have heard
them sing wondrous songs from its branches.

IsABpATJ. Aye, and to prevent these fairies from
doing us harm, the priest goes once every year to this
tree, accompanied by all the village folk in proces-
sion.

Jacques. And the procession winds around the
tree with chanting and incantations.

DuEAND. Now that is something I must see !
Gome, Jeanne, you shall take me.

IsABBAU {getting shawl). We will all go, Durand.
We join the procession every year.

Jacques {getting cap). Come, Jeanne, are you
ready ?

Jeanne. May I not remain at home ?

Jacques. What is this ? You will not join the
procession ?

Jeanne. I cannot — my heart is too heavy with
the sorrows of France.

Jacques. Is that what has troubled you so long ?

Jeanne. Yes. France lies bleeding today and
wounded sore. Her sons fight in vain to expel the
English.

Dukand. Ah, but you are too young to worry

28 THE MAID OP* ORLEANS

over it, and you are but a girl, besides. Come with
us, Jeanne — come with us !

Jeanne. No — no ! Would you have them laugh
at the tears in my eyes ?

IsABEAU. But, Jeanne, Jeanne, why should you
take it so to heart ? Let the King and his ministers
settle it.

Jeanne. France will not be saved by one of the
court. Of that I am most certain.

IsABEAu. Jeanne, you talk nonsense. You know
nothing of wars and courts. You have never even
seen the King.

Jacques. That reminds me of a dream I had —
'twas just last night, too. I saw Jeanne riding away
to war accompanied by many armed soldiers.

Jeanne. You saw that ?

Jacques. Yes, clearly.

IsABBAu. Well, that is nonsense, too. How could
our Jeanne ride away to the war ? The women of
France do not fight in the field. 'Besides, Jeanne
does not know how to ride — she could not even
mount a war horse. But dreams are made of just
such foolish things.

Jeanne {eagerly). But what if it were not fool-
ish ? What if it were true, father ?

Jacques. I would drown you with my own hands
first!

Jeanne. Even if you knew I could save France
by going ?

THE MAID OF ORLEANS 29

Jacques. Save France ! you — a simple village
girl ! Ha, ha ! You romance too much, my daugh-
ter.

IsABEAU. Oh, girls will build castles in the air !
I did the same ^hen I was young.

Jacques. Yes, but you dreamed of dresses and
jewels and balls, while Jeanne sees herself a soldier.
Ha, ha ! Well, come, Durand, we '11 to the proces-
sion.

IsABEAU. Yes, come. And Jeanne shall stay at
home if she will.

Jeanne. I'll finish your spinning, mother.
\_Ghanting is heard off, nearer.']

DuKAND {looking off). 'T is the procession ; it
comes this way.

Jacques. Come, then, come !

\_Exit Jacques, Durand, and Isabeau, leaving
the door open.']

Jeanne. Ah — how good it is to be alone ! Now
I can speak with my angels. Perhaps they will come
to me as I spin — perhaps I may hear their voices !

\_She sits at. the wheel and spins. Pause. Enter
hastily, from without, a young man, a Neighbor.]

Neighbor. Your father — is he not here,
Jeanne ?

Jeanne. No, neighbor, he has gone to the Fairy
Tree.

Neighbor. Alas, everyone has gone there !

Jeanne. Has aught happene4 ?

30 THE MAID OF ORLEANS

Neighbor. A wounded soldier is passing through
— he is faint — he can scarcely stand —

Jeanne. Bring him here, neighbor ! Bring him
here ! I will help you tend him.

[IJxit Neighbor. Jeanne places cushions in an
armchair. The Neighbor re-enters with the Sol- '
DiEB, who leans heavily upon him. Jeanne helpiS to
seat the Soldier in the armchair."]

Jeanne. You suffer, sir?

Soldier. Yes — but I must go on — I must go
on —

Jeanne. And so you shall when you are strong
ernough.

Soldier. I must go to Orleans —

Jeanne (starting). Orleans ?

Neighbor. Has Orleans been attacked ?

Soldier. Orleans is besieged by the English.

Jeanne. Orleans — the last stronghold left to
France.

Soldier. Aye — the last —

Neighbor. She holds out?

Soldier. Bravely ; but her destruction is certain,
unless — [^ITe pauses.]

Jeanne. Unless — unless — ?

Soldier. Unless a miracle comes to pass.

Neighbor. And the days for miracles are over.

Jeanne. No, no ! The days for miracles are here !
Orleans will be saved — France will be freed from
the English !

THE MAID OF ORLEANS 31

SoLDiEK. Too late — too late —

[JETe coughs painfully.']

Jeanne {to Neighbor). Lead him to that room
within — he must have rest.

Neighbor. Aye — I will care for him as well as I
may.

Jeanne. I will be here to help yoii.

[Neighbor assists Soldier into adjoining room.
Laughing and talking are heard off. Enter several
Girls dressed in white and carrying wreaths and
garlands.]

First Girl. Come with us, Jeanne !

Second Girl. We go to the Fairy Tree !

Third Girl. Our wreaths will be hung on its
branches !

Fourth Girl. Our garlands we '11 twine around
it!

Second Girl. So come with us, Jeanne !

Third Girl. Aye, come with us !

Jeanne. I cannot — next year, perhaps.

Fourth Girl (laughing). You cannot go to the
church today. The priest himself has gone to the
tree.

Jeanne. There is a wounded soldier here. Our
neighbor tends him now, but I must be near to help
him. And, hark you — Orleans is besieged !
[ The GirU show no emotion.]

First Girl. Oh, well, let the King attend to that.

Jeanne. Why — 't is a matter for every one of us !

33 THE MAID OF ORLEANS

Second Gikl. Oh, think not of such things,
Jeanne ! Come with us ! We are to sing the song
you love so well — the song of the Fairy Tree.

FouKTH Girl. How can you stay, Jeanne ?

[^Begins to hum the song.]
Girls {singing).

Now what has kept your leaves so green,

Fairy Tree, Fairy Tree ?
The children's tears ! They brought each grief,

And yoa did comfort them and cheer

Their bruisdd hearts, and steal a tear

That, healdd, rose a leaf.

And what has built you up so strong,

Fairy Tree, Fairy Tree ?
The children's love ! They 've loved you long;

Ten hundred years, in sooth,
They 've nourished you with praise and song,
And warmed your heart and kept it young —

A thousand years of youth !

Bide always green in our young hearts,

Fairy Tree ! Fairy Tree !
And we shall always youthful be.

Not heeding Time his flight ;
And when, in exile wand'ring, we
Shall fainting yearn for glimpse of thee,

Oh, rise upon our sight !

Jeanne. Oh, it is beautiful ! I love it ! But no,
1 cannot go — nay, I will not !

Third Girl (to others). Then come — we must
not miss it ourselves!

THE MAID OF ORLEANS 33

Girls (going). Good-bye, Jeanne! Good-bye!
Good-bye !

\_They go. Jeanne closes the door — then turns,
with a soh.']

Jeanne. Orleans — Orleans — my poor unhappy
country ! ^

{She looks upward.) ^ ,

My saints — my saints — you have told me to be
good and pure and go often to the church. This
have I done. You have told me that some day I
shall save France. Tliis would I do, for France is
now in sore distress. Come, dear saints, and show
me the way ! Come, Saint Catharine and Saint Mar-
garet — Ladies of Heaven, white i and shining!
Come, Saint Michael on thy dazzling wings ! Come!
Jeanne the peasant girl prays to thee ! Come, be-
stow upon her thy presence !

[A bright light streams into the room. Jeanne
kneels and stretches out her arms to it, crying with

joy-)

Ah, thou hast come ! Saint Michael, it is thou !
, Voice (^sweet and low). Jeanne, arise —

Jeanne (rising). What wouldst thou of me, dear
saint ?

Voice. I have told thee that thou shouldst save
France.

Jeanne. Aye, and I have heard with wonder.

Voice. The time has come for thee to act. Thou
must relieve Orleans.

34 THE MAID OF ORLEANS

Jeanne. I — relieve Orleans ?

Voice. Thou, Jeanne.

Jeanne. Will it happen by a miracle and without
the loss of blood ?

Voice. No, 't will be done by arms. Thou thyself
shalt lead the soldiers.

Jeanne. Ah, Saint Michael, I am but a poor girl
— I cannot manage the war steed, nor can I lead
armed men.

Voice. Thou wilt have my aid, and Saints Catha-
rine and Margaret will guide thee at every step.
Prepare to depart at once.

Jeanne {faltering). I would obey thee, but my
father — my mother —

Voice. Henceforth thou hast no parent but
France. Go, therefore, and seek the King. Tell
him thou wilt deliver France.
. Jeanne. Will he believe in me ?

Voice. Fear nothing — thy mission lies clear be-
fore thee. Wilt thou go ?

Jeanne. I am terrified — I know nothing but to
spin, and care for the house — of books I am most
ignorant.

Voice. Is not thy heart filled with pity for France ?

Jeanne. Ah, yes, yes ! Such pity as a mother
feels for a dying child !

Voice. And France is dying — France, thy child.
And thou alone canst save her, for thou hast been
chosen by Heaven, Jeanne, to be thy country's de-

THE MAID OF ORLEANS

35

liverer. And now behold the Lady Saints who
have come to receive thy promise !

[^ soft rushing noise is heard ; a dazzling white
light streams into the room. Jeanne stretches out
her arms to ii.^

Jeanne. Saint Catharine! Saint Margaret! Beau-
tiful Ladies o£ Heaven ! Yes, yes, I will go to de-
liver Prance ! I will do whate'er you bid me ! If it
means my life, I will yield it up — I promise — I
promise !

[^Jeanne stands with uplifted arms, great joy
upon her face.']

ACT II
Time : one month later.
Place: Chinon ;^ the Court.

Jeanne d'Akc.
Chaeles VII, King of France.
Queen Maey, Wife of Charles.
YoLANDE 2 (Duchess of Anjou *),

Mother of Queen Mary.
Metz, a Soldier.

DURAND LaXART.

Ladies of Honor, Nobles, Priests, Monki^,
Professors.

Prime Minister.
A Bishop.
A Professor.
Chamberlain.
A Noble.
A Messenger.

\_The audience room is seen filled with Nobles
of France in splendid costumes; with great

* she nSv'. * e' o ISnd'.

' aN zhoo'.

36 THE MAID OF ORLEANS

Churchmen, Monks, and learned Pbofbssoks.
QuBBN Mary and her mother, the Duchess Yo-
LANDE, are seated on the dais, attended hy their
Ladies of Honor. King Charles sits on his
throne. Metz, a young soldier, stands before
him.l

King. You say you accompanied her hither,
Metz?

Metz. Yes, your Majesty, with my squires, the
Maid's uncle, and six armed men.

King. Do you yourself believ6 in her ?

Metz. Yes, your Majesty ; her sincerity has im-
pressed me from the first.

King. You met her at the castle near Domremy ?

Metz. Yes, Sire. The maid had persuaded her
, uncle to take her there. She pleaded with us to bring
her to you. At first we laughed, then we listened ;
at last we believed.

King. Who is this uncle ?

Metz. Durand Laxart — he believes in her im-
plicitly.

King {to Chamberlain). Admit this Durand
Laxart.

{Pause. Enter Durand in his peasant's dress.
He kneels before the King.)

Arise, Durand Laxart, and tell me something of
this' maid, and of her life in Domremy.

Durand. Jeanne was ever a good girl, Sire. If
she had a fault, 't was going too often to the church.

THE MAID OF ORLEANS S7

King. Ah, then she is a dreamer — a timid, pale
enthusiast.

DuRAUD. No, your Majesty, Jeanne is strong and
brave. She ofttimes guarded her father's sheep on
lonely and wild hillsides.

King. Have you seen these visions of angels and
saints ? Have you heard these heavenly Voices ?

DuKAND. That is permitted to Jeanne alone.
They have sent her to you. Sire. I beg you to re-
ceive her !

King (to Councillors). What say you to this ?

Minister. Sire, I advise you to send her back to
her home. She is naught but a visionary.

Bishop. Aye, and she offends the church in her
absurd claim of visions.

YoLANDE. In virhat way, Bishop, does she offend?

Bishop. If Saint Michael had a message to deliver
to France, would he not appear rather to an ordained
and sanctified churchman ? Would not the blessed
Saints Catharine and Margaret speak in the cloister
rather than in a cottage?

Queen Mary. Nay, but it has been prophesied
that a Maiden shall deliver Prance.

Yolande. 'T was foretold by Merlin ' himself, and
who knows but this is the Maid !

Mbtz. The people believe in her absolutely. She
was received with reverence in every town we passed
on our journey hither.

' The wizard celebrated in all the legends of King Arthur's court.

38 THE MAID OF ORLEANS

DuRAND. Aye, the peasants became patriots again
and renewed their loyalty to your Majesty.

Minister. That, Sire, is an argument in her fa-
vor. Our recent defeats have cooled the ardor of
your subjects and have made it difficult to get
recruits.

King. So, whether miraculous or not, you think
the Maid might be useful?

Minister. I do, Sire. She can rouse the ignorant
with hopes of a special blessing from Heaven. Thus
will your forces be increased.

Professor. And that, Sire, is most necessary
if your Majesty is to be the real monarch of
France.^ Orleans is our last stronghold. If Orleans
yields, your crown goes to the English,

King. 'Tis, alas, true; and 't is an extremity that
makes me glad to seize at a straw. I will see this
Maid. Chamberlain, admit her.

{Chamberlain crosses to door.)

Wait ! I will give her a test to prove whether the
Saints have sent her. Now, the Maid has never seen
me ; but if, indeed, she be Heaven-sent, her Voices
should lead her to me.

( Turning to the Prime Minister.)

So, we will exchange places and robes. I will wear
your minister's gown of black — you, my royal
mantle.

^ Already a number of towns in the north of France, including
Paris, were acknowledging Henry VI of England as their King.

THE MAID OF ORLEANS 39

Minister. 'T will be a splendid test, Sire.
\_They exchange robes.']

King. Now seat yourself upon the throne — I '11
mingle with the court. Chamberlain, admit the Maid.

' {^Pause. Enter Jeanne. She wears her peasant
dress of red, but is dignified and unabashed. In-
tense silence. Jeanne looks about calmly. She glances
at the Minister on the throne, then turns away and
signals out the King from the midst of the Nobles.
She goes to him and kneels.']

Jeanne. God give you good life. Sire.

King {pointing to throne). You mistake — there
sits the King.

Jeanne. The King is none other than yourself,
Sire.

King. Maiden, you are right. Arise and speak.

Jeanne. I am Jeanne, the Maid. I am sent you
by the King of Heaven to tell you that you shall be
crowned King of France.^

Kjng. You bring me good news, but how shall' I
know it to be true ?

Jeanne. I tell you that God has pity upon you,
upon your kingdom, and upon your people, and has
sent me to save you from the English.

' Charles had not yet been formally crowned. It was an established
custom that the coronation should take place at the cathedral at Rheims
(remz ; or, French, raws) but Rheims was now in the hands of the Eng-
' lish. Jeanne felt that her next mission, after relieving Orleans, would
be to expel the English from Rheims and see the king crowned and
consecrated there.

40 THE MAID OF ORLEANS

King. It is evident that you are sincere; but
my minister and churchmen must question you,
Jeanne.

Jeanne. I am ready.

Minister. Have your Voices told you what plan
to pursue?

Jeanne. They have bidden me to raise the siege
of Orleans — they have promised complete victory
for the arms of France.

King. In what way is this siege to be raised?

Jeanne. I am bidden to march to Orleans with an
army of reinforcement.

Bishop. If God wills to release Orleans, there is
no need to employ armed men.

Jeanne. The armed men shall fight, and God will
give them the victory.

A Noble. J)o you know aught of the science of
war?

Jeanne. Nothing — but I am commanded by my
Voices to lead the attack.

Queen Maky. And will you, a maid, carry a sword
and cut and hew like the soldiers?

Jeanne. I seek not to slay men. I am commanded
to carry a banner — to bear it aloft in the midst of
the fight.

YoLANDE. What do your parents say to this ?

Jeanne. They are most bitter against it.

YoLANDE. And you would disobey them?

Jeanne. I love them — it almost broke my heart

THE MAID OF ORLEANS ' 41

to leave my home ; but I must follow my Voices^
though they lead me to the battlefield. '

Queen Mary. And will you go in your peasant's
dress ?

Jeanne. I am to wear armor like a knight.

King. Have your Voices told you all these things "i

Jeanne. Yes, your Majesty.

Peofessok.' In what language do the^e Heavenly
Voices address you ?

Jeanne. In better French than ylours, sir.
\_Laugkter and murmurs of approvalJ]

MiNiBTBK. We sljiall not believe in you unless you
show us a sign. ' ^

Jeanne. I have not come here to show signs or
to work miracles. To raise the siege of Orleans shall
be my sign. Give me troops, — many or few, — and
I will depart at once. ■■ t\

King. Nobles of France, what say you ? ^

A Noble. I, for one, believe in the Maid. I will
. follow her banner.

Other Nobles. And I !

King. And what say you, good Bishop ?

Bishop [reluctantly). The maid is good and pious
— and 't is faith, not learning, that works the miracles
of God.

\_Gommotion at the doors.']

Chamberlain. Sire, there is a messenger with-

' The Professor was from a province far to the south and spoke 9
dialect.

42 THE MAID OF ORLEANS

out, come from Orleans. He would speak with you
forthwith.

King. Bid him enter.

{Enter Messenger.)

Has Orleans yielded ? Speak !

Messenger. Your Majesty, Orleans must fall un-
less an army is sent at once to her relief — an army
equal to that of the English.

King. That cannot be — we have no such force
at our command.

Messenger. Then, Sire, the people demand that
th^ Maid be sent.

King. They have heard of her ?

Messenger. Aye, and they are wild with joy.
They believe that she will save them. 'T is this hope
alone that stays them from even now flinging open
their gates to the English.

Jeanne. I pray you send me, Sire ! I pray you !
I pray you !

\_Pause. The King reflects.']

King. Jeanne d'Arc, I herewith commission you
the commander-in-chief of our army. You shall march
at once to the relief of Orleans, for I do perceive
great goodness in you.

Jeanne (clasping her hands and looking up-
ward). My Saints, my Saints, I thank you !

THE MAID OF ORLEANS

ACT III

Time : thre,& months later.

Place: Orleans, France; within the city gates.

43

ks OLD Woman.
A Youth.
A Maiden.
First Soldiee.
Second Soldier.
Third Soldier.
Fourth .Soldier.
First Citizen.
Second Citizen.
Third Citizen.
Fourth Citizen.
Governor of Orleans,
A Herald.
First General.
Second General.

Page, Squire, Citizens
Women,

Third General.

A Countess.

A Seamstress.

A Laundress.

A Lady.

A Housekeeper.

A Flower Girl.

La Hire,i a Bold Cap-
tain.

DuNois,^ A French No-
bleman.

GajwachEj^ a Captain
AT Orleans.

Jeanne d'Arc.

Chaplain to Jeanne.
, Soldiers, Officers,
Girls.

[Soldiers and Citizens are seen looking off an'd
upward. In the background are the gates, closed
and barred^

Old Woman. Has he given the signal ? Tell me
— I oannot see.

First Soldier. Silence — silence !

1 la, er'.

' du nwa'.

' ga mash'.

44 THE MAID OP ORLEANS

Old Woman {to a Youth). Can you see the sol-
dier who went up into the church tower?

youTH. I see him, madam. I '11 tell you when
he gives the signal.

Old Woman. What sign will he make ?

Maiden. He 's to wave his cap. I heard the Gov-
ernor tell him.

Youth. Aye, when he sees the army he 's to wave.

Old Woman. But suppose the army doesn't
come !

Maiden. And suppose the Maid should desert

our cause !

First Citizen (overhearing). Then we are lost.
Nothing else can save us from the English.

Second Soldier. You are right, good man. The
English only wait for reinforcements to surround
Orleans completely.

Second Citizen. I fear me they '11 attack the
Maid. They certainly know she is moving near with
troops.

Third Soldier. They will attack — they will cut
off the Maid and the army.

Fourth Soldier. Not if our soldiers outnumber
theirs.

Youth. Look! The signal! The signal! He
waves his cap !

All. Hurrah ! Hurrah !

\_Enter the Governor, with Dunois, Gamachb,
and other Officers.]

THE MAID OF ORLEANS 45

Governor {to Soldiers). Open the gates ! The
Maid approaches. The English have not stirred from
their camp. Open the gates — open wide to the
Maid and her army !

[iTe gives a great key to an officer, who unlocks
ihe gates. Soldiers let down the bars and force
hack the heavy doors. All press forward to look
out.'\

All. She comes ! She comes !

Fourth Soldier. She rides at the head of the
army !

First Soldier. She wears her armor, like a
knight !

Third Soldier. Look how well she sits her
horse ! A general could not do better !

Second Soldier. I believe she was sent to save
us.

All. Aye! Aye!

Old Woman. Is she not a witch ?

Maiden. She is a messenger from Heaven !

Others. Aye !

First Citizen. See her banner !

Second Citizen. How white and beautiful it is !

Youth. And her armor — how it gleams in the
sunlight !

Third Citizen. The rays from it dazzle mine
eyes 1

Fourth Citizen. Aye, there's a light like the
light of angels hovering 'round her head !

46 THE MAID OF ORLEANS

Maiden. She looks like Saint Michael himself !

First Soldier. She dismounts — she will enter
the city on foot !

Second Soldier. 'T is to show that she has no
pride in her heart !

\_ Enter a ^^^aJjT) from the open.']

Herald. Make way ! Make way ! The Maid !
The Maid !

\^All fall hack. Enter Jeanne, accompanied by
La Hire and other Officers. Jeanne is preceded
hyher Standard Bearer holding aloft the banner;
she is followed by her Chaplain, her Page, and
her Squire. Following these come a guard of
Soldiers.]

All. Welcome ! Welcome ! Welcome !

[Jeanne waves her hand in salutation and
smiles upo7i them.]

JfiANNE. Be of good courage — you shall be
saved.

Maiden. Ah, beautiful Maid, you come from
Heaven — I know it !

Jeanne. I am sent by Heaven to save you.

Youth. I would follow you to the end of the
earth !

Jeanue. Then prepare to attack the English at
once.

La Hire. At once? Today?

Jeanne. Today.

Soldiers. Aye! Today! Today!

ic^" °a

"MARE WAT! MAKE WAT! THE MAID! THE MAID!"

48 TH^ MAID OF ORLEANS

DuNOis. Tomorrow will be soon enoughs You
have had a hard march — you should rest.

Jeanne. My Voices , have told me to attack at
once. But first to the church to worship ! Come, you
people of Orleans I Come, you soldiers of France!

\_JEJxit Jeanne with Attendants, followed by La
Sire, Citizens, and Soldiers.']

Gamaohe (indignantly). Attack the Eftglish at
once — indeed ! Have we not been fighting them for
seven months?

Dtjnois. Yesjiand with naught but failure.

Gamache. And do you think that country girl
will mend matters ?

DuNOis. It may be. Ton saw how she inspired the
soldiers.

First General. 'Twas but momentary. They'll
soon be the cowards they have been in every recent
skirmish.

Second General. We dare not lead them from
these gates to face the enemy.

Third General. The English have too great a
vantage point in this tower they have built just
without. What with missile and arrow, they can
shoot us down close to our very walls. Our men
know this; they will not venture out.

DuNOis. But things are difEerent now — the Maid
will inspire them to fight.

Gamache. What ! Is the advice of a country girl
to be taken against that of a knight and captain ?

THE MAID OF ORLEANS 49

FiKST General. Do you expect us to follow her ?
What knows she of the science of war ?

Second General. Do you think that we, who
have been seasoned , by a hundred battles, will con-
sent to hear the order for assault from a girl still in
her teeris — and a nobody ?

DuNOis. Gentlemen, if there is aught in this of
personal feeling against the Maid, I beg you to re-
consider. Remember she is our commander-in-chief,
by order of his Majesty.

Gamache. No matter — I will not consent to the
attack !

Others. Nor I ! Nor I ! Nor I \

DuNOis. Then I must apprise the Maid of your
design.

\_Unter Jeanne, accompanied by Page, Chaplain,
and Squire. She looks at the Generals severely.']

Jeanne. Gentlemen, you have been in council
against me. Nay, do not attempt to deny — my
Voices warned me in the church.

DuNOis. The officers feel that an immediate at-
tack is unnecessary.

Gamache. Your troops brought large supply of
provisions. Let us rest in comfort for a time. We
are weary of fighting.

Officers. Aye ! Aye !

Jeanne. Our army barely equals that of the en-
emy now. Would you wait till they are joined by
reinforcements ?

60 THE MAID OF ORLEANS

Gamachb. I will not consent to the attack.

Ofeiobrs. Nor I ! Nor I !

Jeanne {indignantly). You have ''been to your
counsel, and I have been to mine. Be assured that
the words of my Saints shall be fulfilled, but the
words of your counsellors shall perish. Dunois, we
shall attack at once ! Page, bid the trumpets sound
the call to arms ! Squire, have my horse without the
gates !

{Page and Squire salute and go. Jeanne turns^
to Chaplain.)

Father, will you accompany me to the field? I
shall need your prayers, for I shall be wounded in
the shoulder and shall be near death for a moment.

Chaplain. I shall be by your side, Jeanne. But
why think you will be wounded ?

Jeanne. My Voices have told me, father.

Chaplain. And still you go ?

Jeanne. Though it meant my life, I would go !

Dunois. And I will go with you, brave Maid !

[ Trumpets are sounded off. Soldiers and armed
Citizens rush m.]

Jeanne. To the attack ! To the attack ! You shall
win the day ! You of Orleans shall conquer !

Soldiers and Citizens. To the attack ! To the
attack !

[^They rush to the gates, which have been closed
and barred during the excitement.^

Jeanne. Who closed these gates?

THE MAID OP ORLEANS 51

GovERNOK. I, the Governor of Orleans.

Jeanne. By whose order ?
• Governor. By order of the generals.

Jbann!e. I command you to open them !

GoYBRNOB. I refuse."

Jeanne. Whether you will or no, we will pass !
Thrust him aside, men ! Break down the bars ! ^

[ The Men press forward, shouting. They thrust
the Governor aside ; break down the bars ; open
the gates.']

Soldiers and Citizens. Forward ! Eorward!

Jeanne. La Hire, send out reinforcements ! Du-
nois, see that cannon be posted to bear upon the
English tower to the right. The assault must be
made there. Soldiers, throw planks across the moat !
Bring forth axes and^ scaling ladders ! Forward, men,
forward !

[^Exit all but the insurgent Officers. Pause.]

Gamache. It shall not be said that I failed in rpy
duty to France ! I shall follow the Maid !
\^He rushes out.]

Others {going). And I ! And I ! And I !

\_Exit all. Sound of battle is heard — boom of
cannon, shouthig, and clash of arms. Pause. Enter
Orleans Women of every rank and degree. They
look out of the gates.]

Countess. The Maid is in the thick of the fight !

Seamstress. The arrows and bolts fall about her
like hail !

62 THE MAID OF ORLEANS

Laundress. She minds them not ! She ever car»
ries her banner aloft !

Lady. The soldiers fight as if they were im-
mortal ! '

Housekeeper. See ! THey are placing ladders
agaibst the tower ! And now they ascend !

All. They ascend ! They ascend !

Flower Girl. But now the EngUsh are beat-
ing them down! They have mallets and heavy
axes !

Countess. Our men falter ! Do you see ? They
falter —

All. Alas ! Alas !

Housekeeper. Weep not — the Maid will en-
courage them.

Lady. Look! She flings herself into the. ditch!
She seizes a ladder — she plants it against the tower
— look ! look !

Flower Girl. And now she begins to climb !

Seamstress. The English will kill her ! Every
arrow is aimed at her !

Housekeeper. She falls ! An arrow has struck
her!

All. She falls — she falls !

Lady. Our men lift her up — they are bearing her
here.

Countess. Come, we '11 make a bed of our cloaks.

[ They make up a pallet on the ground with their
cloaks. Writer Soldiers bearing the Maid. They

THE MAID OF ORLEANS 53

lay her tenderly upon the bed. Enter Chaplain
and Page, the Page carrying Jeanne's banner.']

Chaplaii^ {kneeling by Jeanne). You have been
sorely wounded, Jeanne.

Jbannb (weeping). Pray iot me, father — pray
for me —

l^Unter Gamachb.]

Gamaohe. I would confess to you, brave Maid,
I was in the wrong — I regret it. I hope you will
bear no malice against me.

Jeanne. If I did, I should be in the wrong, for
never was a knight more courteous. And now tell
me how goes the fight ? It seems to me there is a
lull. Is it so? Conceal nothing from me. Captain.

Gamachb. Our men have fallen back — they need
you to inspire them.

Jeanne. Do they retreat ?

Gamachb. The generals are about to order it.

Jeanne (rising). No — no — it shall not be!
\_She staggers to her feet.]

Countess. Jeanne — Jeanne — you must lie
down !

Jeanne. No — I go to the field ! My banner.
Page — my banner !

Gamachb. You are not strong enough to bear it,
Jeanne.

Jeanne. I must ■ — it will inspire the men to fight !

(She takes the banner; staggers beneath its
weight ; then holds it aloft and calls clearly.)

54 THE MAID OF ORLEANS

Push forward, men, and the victory shall be yours !
Push forward, men — push forward !

ISJxit Jeanne, followed by Gamache, Chaplain;
Page, and Soldiers.']

Countess. Saw you ever such bravery?

Seamstress. Look how they rally to her side!
.Latjndbess. They rush forward like madmen !

Lady. They are scaling the walls now ! The Eng-
lish do flot resist !

Housekeeper. Look ! They are breaking down
the gates ! They are entering the tower !

Flower Girl. S^e ! See ! They are tearing down
the English flag !

Laundress. Then the English have surrendered!

Flower Girl. Aye, they have surrendered —
they have surrendered!

Countess. 'Tis due to the Maid alone.

Lady. How can we ever thank her enough ? .

Housekeeper. How can we show our gratitude ?

Seamstress. Let us sing that song she loves so
much — the song of the Fairy Tree at Domremy.
Let us sing it when she enters.

Others. Aye ! Aye !

[IJnter Soldiers, ancZ Citizens /rom the field.]

Soldiers and Citizens {shouting). The Maid I
The Maid of Orleans !

\_Miter Jeanne and Officers.]

Soldiers and Citizens. The Maid of Orleans !
The Maid of Orleans !

THE MAID OF ORLEANS 55

\_There is confusion for a moment. Jeanne lifts
her hand. There is silence."]

Jeanne. People of "Orleans, the siege has been
raised — the power of the English has been broken
at last. The army of France is victorious !

DuNOis. The honor is yours, Maid. To you alone
we owe our victory.

Jeanne. No — I have but followed my Voices.

{She lifts her banner and looks upward, radiant
with happiness.)

Dear Saints — dear Saints — yoilr counsel has
been fulfilled ! You have saved France in this hour]

Women (singing).

Bide alway green in our young hearts,

Fairy Tree ! Fairy Tree !
And we shall always youthful be,

Not heeding Time his flight ; ^
And when in exile wand'ring we
Shall fainting yearn for glimpse of thee,

O rise upon our sight !

[Jeanne listens with delight, then bows her head
and weeps.]
Jeanne. Mother — father — home !

THE NECKLACE

Mathilde Loisel. Cosettb.

Pierre, her Brother. Claudine.

Jeanne Forester. Minette.

Teresa. Maid.

Marie. Neighbor.

ACT I

Time : an afternoon in January.

Place : Paris ; sitting-room in the^Loisels^ apartment

[ TTie room is shabby and small. Mathilde is seen
imbroidering. She is young, pretty, and daintily
dressed. The door bell rings. The little Maid en-
ters.]

Mathilde. Who is it ?

Maid. The young ladies from the school, Madam.

Mathilde. Is Jeanne Forester with them ?

Maid. No, she does not come this time.

Mathilde. Then I will see them.

{JExit Maid. Mathilde hastily rearranges the
chairs. Enter Teresa, Minette, Claudine, Co-
SETTE, and Marie.)

Oh ! Oh ! How glad I am to see you ! Come, sit
down ! Here is a chair, Cosette ! Take this rocker,
Claudine ! Teresa, you try this stool ! The sofa for
the rest of you !

\_All sit down.]

THE NECKLACE 57

Teresa. We have but a minute to stay, Mathilde.

Claudine. We are on our way to see Jeanne For-
ester.

Makie. We thought you would like to go with us.

Mathilde. I 'm sorry, but I can't go with you
Ijoday. I — I have so much to do.

CosETTE. You were only embroidering.

Mathilde. Yes, to be sure, but — I have decided
not to go to Jeanne's any more. ,

MiNETTE. Why — I thought you were the best of
friends !

Mathilde. We were — we are good friends
now, but I find it makes me unhappy to visit
Jeanne.

Tbbesa. Unhappy ! How can that be? Jeanne
has a beautiful home.

Mathilde. That is just it ! The very magnificence
makes me unhappy. I can't help but compare it with
this dingy place.

Minbtte. None of us have homes like Jeanne's.

Marie. But Jeanne does not seem to mind that
at all. Does she not invite us to see her ?

Mathilde. Yes, but I, for one, will go no more.
I want to forget her silken curtains and gilded
chairs, and her marbles and her silvef .

Claudine. Well, I love to see beautiful things,
even if I can't have them.

CosETTE. And so do I ! Jeanne's tapestries, for
instance, are a joy to behold — all kings and queens

58 THE NECKLACE

and flying birds. Tiiey make me think of a* fairy
play.

Mathilde. They make me think of these cheap
curtains here.

Teresa. I agree with you, Claudine and Cosette.
I love Jeanne's silk-covered furniture! One sinks
deep — so deep in those great armchairs. It makes
me think of Heaven.

Mathilde. It makes me think of these worn-out
chairs, where one also sinks deep — so deep, in con-
stant danger of going through.

Minette. Mathilde, you are foolish. Come with
us !

Marie. Yes, come with us ! Grand footmen will
let us in. You will think them most respectful.

Mathilde. I will think only of my one poor
little maid. No, I will not go with you.

Girls (going). Then good-bye ! Good-bye, Ma-
thilde !

Mathilde. Good-bye ! Good-bye !

\_Uxit girls. Mathilde sighs as she takes up her
embroidery. Pause. Enter Pierre, a young man,
not over twenty. He waves a large envelope.^

Pierre. Here, sister ! Here is something for you
— something that will please you !

Mathilde [taking the envelope). What?
(*S^Ae ojjens it and reads aloud.)

" The Minister of Public Instruction requests the
honor of Mr. and Miss Loisel's company at the palace;

THE NECKLACE 59

of the Ministry on Monday evening, January the
nineteenth."

{She throws the letter down.)

Why do you bring that to me ?

PiEBKB. I thought you would be glad ! You never
go out — this will be a fine chance for you. I had
great trouble getting it — everypne^wants to go. It
is to be very select.

Mathilde. What did you think I would wear ?

Pierre. Why, I had not thought of that— you
always look neat and pretty, sister.

Mathilde. I have nothing to wear to a ball —
nothing, nothing ! I shall not go, Pierre.

Pierre. How much would a new dress cpst?

Mathilde. Not less than four hundred francs.

Pierre {thoughtfully). Four hundred francs* —
I wonder — I wonder —

Mathilde. Do you happen to have saved that
much '? But no, that is imJ)ossible ; your salary is so
small.

Pierre. Well, but I have — just that much ex-
actly. Ihad put it away for a rainy day. But you
shall have it, Mathilde, you shall have it tomorrow
to buy your dress. Why — bless me, you don't look
one bit pleased, Mathilde !

Mathilde. It is all very well to have a nice dress,
but one should wear jewels to a ball of this kind. And
what jewels have I? Nothing, not even a bracelet!

' A little less than eighty dollars.

dO THE NECKLACE

Pierre. Wear flowers, Mathilde ! That is it !
Wear flowers instead of jewels !

Mathilde. And be different from every other
woman there ! No ! I 'd rather stay at home for-
ever!

{^The door-bell rings. Short pause. Unter Maid.']

Maid. Miss Forester to see you, please.

MATBI1.D-E (hastily). I can't see her ! Tell her —

[Enter Jeanne Forester, young, gracious, and
richly dressed.)

Jeanne !

Jeanne. I thought I would n't wait — the girls
said you were at home. She would n't come to see
me, Pierre.

Pierre. I can't get her to go anywhere. I'm
coaxing her now to go to a ball. She refuses me
absolutely, Jeanne.

Jeanne. What is the matter, Mathilde dear?
You used to love balls when we were in school. I
fear you are not feeling well.

Mathilde. Oh, I am very well, thank you.

Pierre. It is just this, Jeanne ; she —

Mathilde. No, no ! You must not tell her !

Jeanne. Go on, Pierre ! I insist !

Pierre. Mathilde does not want to wear flowers
to the ball. I say flowers would do very well. Now
what do you think about it?i

Mathilde. It would be advertising our poverty!
Everyone else will wear jewels !

THE NECKLACE 61

Jeanne. And so shall you wear jewels, Mathilde.
Here —

l^She takes a diamond necklacefrom her neck and
gives it to Mathilde.']

Mathilde. Jeanne ! You will loan it to me ?

Jeanne. Yes, of course.

Mathilde. Oh, how good of you ! How good of
you ! You have made me very happy, Jeanne !
{She runs to the mirror and puts on the necklace.)

It is beautiful — beautiful ! Now I will go to the
ball, Pierre!

ACT II

Scene I
Time : before dawn, the morning after the ball.
Place : the Loi&ds^ sitting room.

[Mathilde and Pibbke enter, wearing wraps.
Pierre turns up the lights and stirs the fire.']

PiERBB. Better keep on your cloak till the fire
burns up a little.

Mathilde. Yes, the room is chilly. Oh, how
beautiful it was! I shall never, never forget it 1

Pierre. I am glad you enjoyed it, sister.

Mathilde. I tell you it pays to be well dressed
and wear jewels ! Everyone wanted to be intro-
duced to me ! Even the Minister asked to be
presented !

Pierre {nodding). I was proud of you, Mathilde.

62 THE NECKLACE

Mathildb. I tell you, Pierre, I was born to be
rich. I feel myself the equal of any great lady.

PiERKE. And so you are, Mathilde, so you
are!

MATgiLDB. Little good it does me ! Here I am —
buried alive among pots and pans ! I, who love to
wear fine clothes, to be envied, to be sought after —

PiEBBB. Mathilde, you think too much about
yourself. Why don't you think of those who have
only rags, who are suffering and starving !

Mathilde. I have no money to give away.

PiEREB. Everyone has sympathy to give, and that
is more. You could read to the poor sick Madame
upstairs, you could play with her little children;
but no — you never give a thought to anyone else.
But I am glad you enjoyed the ball, little sister.
Good night! I must go to work at seven.

{He starts off. Mathilde removes her cloak in
front of the mirror. She cries out sharply. Pierre
turns.)

What is it? Are you ill?

Mathilde. The necklace ! — I have lost it !

Pierre. Lost it !

[^Mathilde searches madly through her dress,
her cloak, her pockets. "]

Mathilde. It is gone — it is gone ! Look in the
hall, Pierre ! , ^

[^Exit Pierre, hastily. Mathilde shakes her clodk^
then looks on floor. He-enter Pierre.]

"THE NECKLACE -I HAVE LOST IT!

64 THE NECKLACE

FiEBBE. It is not in the hall.

Mathilde. Did you look on the stairs ?

Pierre. Yes — I searched carefully.

Mathilde. It is not in my clothes.

Pierre. Did you have it on when we left the

ball?

Mathilde. Yes — I felt it as we were leaving.

Pierre. It must be in the cab.

Mathilde. Did you take the cabman's number ?

Pierre. No. Did you notice it ?

Mathilde. No, I did n't even look at it. Pierre,
Pierre, what shall we do ?

Pierre. I will ofEer a reward —

Mathildp. Go to the palace — jto the cab com-
pany — to the pawn shops — everywhere ! Go — go
— Pierre !

\_Pierre takes his coat and goes quickly. Ma'
thilde makes a frenzied search, looking under
chairs f sofa, in ^corners, under rugs, etcJ]

Scene II

Time : several hours later.
Place : the LoiseW sitting room.

\_Mathilde, now wearing a house dress, sits
staring dejectedly into the fire. Enter the Maid
with a tray set with teapot, cup, eic]

Maid. Would you not like some tea, madam ?

Mathilde. No, thank you — nothing.

THE NECKLACE 65

Maid. But you ate no breakfast !

Mathilde. I cannot eat.

{Doorbell rings. Mathilde jumps up.)

There ! That must be Pierre !

{Exit Maid to hall. Short pause. Enter Pierre,
looking worn and haggard.)

Did you find it ?

Pierre. No — nor any trace of it.

Mathilde. And you went everywhere ?

Pierre. Everywhere! To the palace on foot, to
the cab company, to the pawn-shops, to police head-
quarters, to the newspapers to offer a reward — I
have left nothing undone.

■ Mathilde. Perhaps someone will return it for
the reward.

Pierre. That is our only hope. In the meantime
you must make some excuse to your, friend.

Mathilde. I will write her that I have broken
the clasp and that I am having it repaired.

Pierre. That will give us^time to do something
in case it is not found.

Mathilde. What can we do, Pierre ?

Pierre. We must replace it.

Mathilde. Keplace it? That would be impossible.
The necklace was worth forty thousand francs.

Pierre. No matter, it must be replaced.

Mathilde. We have nothing, except the little
that father left us.

Pierre. That will give us a thousand francs to

66 THE NECKLACE

start on. The rest I will borrow— ^thirty-nine thou-
sand francs.

Mathildb. It will take a lifetime to pay.

PiEEKE. Yes, a lifetime ; but it must be done.

Mathilde. It was my fault — you shall not sac-
rifice your life, Pierre.

Pierre. It must be done, Mathilde. We will buy
a necklace exactly like Jeanne's.

Mathilde. Then she need never know.

Pierre. It will not be necessary.

Mathilde. I will dismiss the maid — we will give
up this house — we will live in a garret till this debt
is paid.

Pierre. We shall have very little to live on ; my
salary will be going to usurers.

Mathilde. It is frightful ! It will mean years of
anguish and misery.

Pierre. But then, after all, the necklace, may be
found.

Mathilde. Let us hope for it, Piferre ! To the
last minute let us hope for it !

ACT III

Time : ten years later.
Place : Paris ; a garret.

\_The room is almost hare of furniture. There
is a TcnocTi at the door. Pause. The door is opened
from without, and a Neighbor looks in. She is a

THE NECKLACE 67

laundress, fat and cheerful. She looks about, then
calls.'^

Neighbor. Mathilde! Mathilde!

lUnter Mathilde with a hasket of clothes. Ma-
thilde looks like a middle-aged woman, thin and
careworn; her hands are red andrough. She wears
coarse clothing.'\

Mathilde {cordially). Ah, neighbor, I am glad
to see you. I was taking in my wash from the line.
Won't you sit down ?

Neighbor. I just came in to tell you that I have
found another wash for you.

Mathilde." Oh, that is so good of you !

Neighbor. This wash is regular, every week.

Mathilde. Every sou * counts, neighbor.

Neighbor. You are working too hard, friend
Mathilde. From early morn till late at night you
are washimg, scrubbing, ironing.

Mathilde. We are in debt.
' Neighbor. But you have been working like this
for years. And your brother, too, works, works,
all the time.

Mathilde. The debt was a very large one. How
is that little sick girl on the top floor ? I thought I
heard her crying just now.

Neighbor. The fever came on again last night
— she cries for a doll — her folks can't afford to
buy one.

' About a cent.

68 THE NECKLACE

Mathildb. I wish — but never mind — I can't.
What arrangement did you make about that wash,
neighbor ? Will it be sent here ?

Neighbor. Yes, today.

Mathilde. What is the name ?

Neighbor. Forester, in the grand house in —

Mathilde. Forester ! Did you say Forester ?

Neighbor. Yes. What, is the matter? You are
so pale !

Mathilde. Did you tell her my name? Did
you?

Neighbor. Yes, to be sure. Why not? "Loisel,"
I said — " Loisel."

Mathilde. Did you say "Mathilde " ?

Neighbor. No — just "Loisel." Should I have
given her your first name?

Mathilde. No, no ! (Aside.) Loisel is common
enough — she will not guess —

Neighbor. What is that you are saying ?

Mathilde. Nothing — nothing — I am so glad
to get another wash — that is all. You are so good
to me, neighbor.

Neighbor. Not so good as I should like to be.
Look how you did my washings when I was sick
last winter.

\_Merry whistling is heard.']

Mathilde. Who can that be ?

Neighbor. It must be your brother, Pierre.

Mathilde. No, he never whistles — now.

THE NECKLACE 69

Neighbor. Then it is the agent for the rent. I
must get ready for him.

{Exit. The whistling is heard nearer. Miter
PiBKRE, whistling. He is thin and almost ragged.
His hair is turning gray."]

Mathildb. Why, Pierre — I hj^ve n't heard you
whistle in years.

PiEBBB. It is paid — every sou !

Mathildb. Paid, you say ?

PiBBKB. I have settled with the last creditor today.
\_Mathilde drops weakly into a chair.]

Mathilbb. Paid, — after all these years, — thirty-
nine thousand francs!

PiEEBE. Not only that, but the interest. And I
had to borrow at very high rates, you remember.

' Mathilde. How you have worked to pay that !
All day doing two men's work, and then every night
your copying.

PiEBBB. Ah, but I was lucky to be able to bor-
row enough money to buy a necklace like Jeanne's.

Mathildb. 'T is ten years this month since I took
it to her.

PiBBBE. I wonder if Jeanne ever knew that the
necklace you returned was not her own.

Mathildb. She did not open the box while I was
there. I have never seen her since. We left no traces
when we moved to this garret.

PiEBBE. . And now it is all over ! The borrowings,
the duns, the mortgages, the sleepless nights, the

70 THE NECKLACE

cruel money lenders ! It is all over now, sister, all
over !

Mathildb. Yes — but it has left you old and care-
worn. Ten years of your life have been wasted,
Pierre — ten years for my one night's pleasure.

Pierre. And what about you, Mathilde? Ten
years in a garret, without your friends, without a
single pretty dress —

Mathilde. Oh, I do not worry about those things
now — I have so much to think of. Listen, Pierre !
The little sick girl on the top floor back is crying
her heart out for a doll. Could not our next sou go
for that ?

Pierre. To be sure ! 4-nd here is the sou — it
was the only one left over.

\_There is a^Tcnock at the door.']

Mathildb. Come in, neighbor ! It was Pierre who
whistled ! Come in !
[^wier Jeanne Forester, still young and pretty.]

Jeanne. I seek Mathilde Loisel. Does she live .
here ?

Mathilde {faintly). No — .no —

Jeanne. I have been told that a family by the
name of Loisel lives in this house. Pardon me, I
have come to the wrong door. Can you not direct me ?
{^Pause.]

Mathilde. Jeanne ! Jeanne ! I am Mathilde
Loisel !

Jbannb. You — ?

THE NECKLACE 71

Mathildb. I ! And there is Pierre !

Jeanne. Why — how you have changed ! Is it
really you, Mathilde ? Is it really you, Pierre ?

Pierre. We have had ten years of misery since
■we have seen you, Jeanne.

Jeanne. Why did you not tell me ? I could never
find a trace of you — not until today, when the
laundress told me that you — but that can't be true,
Mathilde ?

Mathilde. Yes, it is true. Look at my hands.
And Pierre has worked all day and copied" every
night. But at last we have paid, and now I can look
you in the face and tell you everything. Do you
remember that diamond necklace you loaned me to
wear to the ball ?

Jeanne. Yes, I remember.

Mathilde. Well, I lost it.

Jeanne. Why ! What do you mean ? You re-
turned it.

Mathilde. We bought you another just like it.

Jeanne. You bought me a diamond necklace, you
say?

Pierre. What else could we honorably do ?

Jeanne. What did you pay for it? You must tell
me that, Pierre.

Pierre. Forty thousand francs. I did not think
yours could have cost more ; but, if it did, of course
we will pay you.

Jeanne. Oh, my poor Mathilde ! My poor Pierre !

72 THE NECKLACE

My necklace was not worth more than five hundred
francs ! It was paste !

Others. Paste !

Jeanne. Paste —

Mathildb (throwing her arms around Pierre).
Ten years ! Oh, my poor Pierre !

A CHRISTMAS CAROL

ACT I

Time : the day before Christmas — late afternoon.
Place : London ; Scrooge's office.

Ebenezbr Scrooge. A Portly Gentleman.

Bob Cratchit, his Clerk. A Boy.
Scrooge's Nephew. A Laborer.

[Scrooge is seated at an old desk in a dingy
room. He is a lean old man with a hard, sharp
face. In a corner, at a high desk, sits Bob
Cratchit, working by the light of one candle.
Bob is tired and worn; his clothes are threadbare.
He shivers, tiptoes to fire, which is very low, and
cautiously lifts one coal from scuttle. Scrooge
turns and sees him."]

Scrooge. So you find it cold here, Cratchit ?

Bob (frightened). Oh, no, no, sir ! Oh, no, no,
Mr. Scrooge !

Scrooge. It might be well for us to part, Cratch-
it.

Bob. Oh, no, no, sir !

{He puts coal back in scuttle.)

I beg your pardon, sir — I did n't mean any harm.
It shan't happen again, sir.

74 A CHRISTMAS CAROL

Scrooge. You are talking on my time, Cratchifc

Bob. I beg your pardon, sir. I thank you, sir.

l_He crosses to his desk and writes. Pause. Me
shivers; gets his comforter secretly; wraps it about
his neck, and warms his stiff fingers at his candle-l

Scrooge {turning). Ah ! So you find it cold here,
Cratchit ?

Bob [shivering). Oh, no, no, sir ! I am comfortable,
sir, very comfortable I may say, sir.

Scrooge. It might be well for us to part, Cratch-
it.

Bob. Oh, no, no, sir ! I '11 never warm 'em again,
sir ! They can freeze if they like, sir — not one min-
ute of your time shall be taken, sir ! Not one min-
ute, sir!

\^He works hurriedly. Enter from street a Portly
Gentleman. He is pleasant to. behold."]

Gentleman. This is the firm of Scrooge and
Marley, I believe ?

Scrooge. It is.

Gentleman. Have I the pleasure of addressing
Mr. Scrooge or Mr. Marley ?

Scrooge. Mr. Marley has been dead these seven
years. He died seven years ago this very night — a
Christmas Eve.

Gentleman. Then, Mr. Scrooge, I will give you
my credentials.

[Hands papers to Scrooge.)

A few of us are endeavoring to raise a fund to make

A CHRISTMAS CAROL 75

some Christmas cheer for the poor and destitute,
who suffer greatly at the present time. Many thou-
sands are in want of common necessaries ; hundreds
of thousands are in want of common comforts.

Scrooge. Are there no prisons?

Gentleman. Plenty of prisons, but —

ScEOOGE. Are not the workhouses still in exist-
ence?

Gentleman. I wish I could say they were not.

ScBOOGE. Is there not a Poor Law for the desti-
tute?

Gentleman. Ye^, but —

Scrooge. Then why should you trouble yourself ?

Gentleman. Why? Why, because these places
you mention do not furnish Christmas cheer of mind
or body to the multitude. What shall I put you
down for ?

Scrooge. Nothing!

Gentleman. You wish to be anonymous ?

Scrooge. I wish to be left alone.

{He hands hack credentials.)

I don't make merry myself at Christmas, and I
can't afford to make idle people merry. I pay taxes for
the support of the poorhouses — they cost enough.
Those who are badly off must go there.

Gentleman. Many can't go, and many would
rather die.

Scrooge. If they would rather die, they had bet-
ter do it, and decrease the surplus population.

76 A CHRISTMAS CAROL

Gentleman. Sir ! How can you talk so !

ScEOOGE. Good afternoon !

Gentleman. But, sir —

Scrooge. Good afternoon !

{Exit Portly Gentleman.)

How did he dare ask me for money ! How did he
dare!

Bob. I don't know, sir — no one ever does.

\_Enter from street Scrooge^ s Nephew, a hand-
some young man, cheerful and happy.']

Nephew. A Merry Christmas, uncle !

Scrooge. Bah ! Humbug ! ^

Nephew. Christmas a humbug, uncle ! You don't
mean that, I am sure.

Scrooge. I do. " Merry Christmas ! " What right
have you to be merry ? You 're poor enough.

Nephew. Come, then ! What right have you to
be sour ? You 're rich enough.

Scrooge. Bah ! All a humbug !

Nephew. Don't be cross, uncle.

Scrooge. Out upon your " Merry Christmas " !
What is Christmas time to you but a time for pay-
ing bills without money — a time for finding your-
self a year older, but not an hour richer.

Nephew. Oh, but —

Scrooge. If I could have my way, every idiot who
goes about with " Merry Christmas " on his lips should
be boiled with his own pudding and buried with a
stake of holly through his heart. He should !

A CHRISTMAS CAROL 77

Nephew. Uncle!

SoBooGB. Nephew ! Keep Christmas in your own
way, and let me keep it in mine.

Nephew. Keep it ! But you don't keep it !

Scrooge. Let me leave it alone, then.

Nephew. But it is such a good time — a kind,
forgiving, charitable, pleasant time ; the only time
in the whole year when men and women seem by
one consent to open their shut-up hearts freely, and
to think of the people about them.

Scrooge. What good has that ever done you ?
Have you ever made a penny by it?

Nephew. No, it has never put a scrap of gold in
my pocket, but I believe that it has done me good
and will do me good ; and I say, God bless it !
[5o6 forgets himself and applaudsJ]

Scrooge {to Bob). Let me hear another sound
from you, and you '11 keep your Christmas by losing
your job. {To Nephew.) You're quite a powerful
speaker, sir. I wonder you don't go into Parlia-
ment.

Nephew. Don't be angry, uncle. Come ! Dine
with us tomorrow.

Scrooge. No.

Nephew. Why not, uncle ? Why not ?

Scrooge. Why did you get married ?

Nephew. Because I fell in love.

Scrooge. Because you fell in love ! Bah ! Good
afternoon !

78 A CHRISTMAS CAROL

Nephew. Nay, uncle, but you never came to see
me before I married. Why give it as a reason for
not coming now ?

Scrooge. Good afternoon.

Nephew. I want nothing from you ; I ask nothing
of you. Why can't we be friends ?

Scrooge. Good afternoon.

Nephew (going). I am sorry to find you so reso-
lute. A Merry Christmas, uncle?

Scrooge. Good afternoon !

Nephew. And A Happy New Year !

Scrooge. Good afternoon !

[5o6 opens door for Nephew.']

Nephew. Merry Christmas, Cratchit !

Bob {warmly). Merry Christmas, sir !

Nephew. A Merry Christmas to Mrs. Cratchit
and the little Cratchits, especially to Tiny Tim !

Bob. Thank you, sir. A Happy New Year to you,
sir!

\_Uxit Nephew.]

Scrooge. Why do you talk about a merry Christ-
mas ? You earn only fifteen shillings a week, and
you have a large family to support.

Bob. We are very happy when we 're together,
sir.

\^He glances at cloQk, unconsciously.]

Scrooge. Are you in a hurry to go home, Cratch-
it?

Bob (crossing to desk). Oh, no, no, sir !

A CHRISTMAS CAROL 79

Scrooge. Well, it 's closing time — and it 's here
far too soon.

{Boh instantly snuffs out his candle and puts on
his hat and comforter. Scrooge puts on his great
coat. Pause.)

You '11 be wanting all day tomorrow, I suppose.

Bob. If quite convenient, sir.

Scrooge. It 's not convenient, and it 's not even
fair. If I were to stop you half a crown for it, you'd
think yourself ill-used, I '11 be bound.

Bob. Oh, sir, you would n't do that !

Scrooge. Why not ? You don't think me ill-used
when I pay a day's wages for no work.

Bob. But it's only once a year, sir.

Scrooge. A poor excuse for picking a man's
pocket every twenty-fifth of December. But I sup-
pose you must have the whole day. Be here all the
earlier the next morning.

Bob. Oh, yes, sir ! I '11 be here before time, sir !

[iZe opens the door. A Boy who is passing stops
and sings-l

Boy (singing).

God bless you, merry gentlemen !

May nothing you dismay ! ,

Scrooge (angrily). BeofE ! None of your Christ-
mas carols here ! Be off — be off, I say !

[Boy runs, frightened. Boh stCirts out. A La-
borer passes.]

Laborer (to Boh). Merry Christmas, stranger!

80 A CHRISTMAS CAROL

Bob. Merry Christmas to you, my friend !

[They disappear.^
Scrooge {growling as he takes keys from pocket
to lock door). A world of fools ! A world of fools !
[^Uxit, closing door.]

ACT II

Ebenezer Scrooge. Third Boy.

Ghost of Jacob Maeley. Mr. Fezziwig.

Spirit of Christmas Past. Mrs. Fezziwig.

First Boy. Dick.

Second Boy. Ebenezer.
Schoolboys.

Scene I

Time : one hour later.

Place : sitting room in Scrooge's lodgings.

[2'Ae room is poorly furnished — a table,anold
sofa, two chairs. A very low fire hums in fire-
place. Enter Scrooge in hat and great coat. He
lights a candle ; locks door into hall ; removes hat,
coat, and shoes ; puts on dressing-gown, slippers,
and night-cap ; sits by fire. Pause. A bell hang-
ing in room begins to ring softly, then louder and
louder. Scrooge is astonished.]

Scrooge. What is this ? Why should that bell
ring ? The wires are brokea — no one could ring it
from without — there's no draft here to cause it.

A CHRISTMAS CAROL 81

( The hell rings for a minute ; it ceases. A clank'
ing noise is heard below.)

That 's a curious noise ! It sounds as if some one
were dragging chains over the cellar floor. Now it
is coming upstairs — it is coming straight toward my
door ! No ! It 's all imagination. There is no noise;
and hesides, my door is locked.

{The door is thrown open. Enter Marley's
Ghost, looking exactly like Marley and dressed in
Marley's usual waistcoat, tights, and hoots. It
drags a long chain made of keys, ledgers, deeds,
etc., all made of steel. Scrooge looks at Ghost
sternly ; speaks coldly.)

How now ! What do you want of me ?

Ghost. Much !

Scrooge. Who are you?

Ghost. Ask me who I was.

Scrooge. Who were you, then ? You 're particu-
lar for a shade.

Ghost. In life I was your partner, Jacob Marley.

Scrooge. Can you — can you sit down ?

Ghost. I can.

Scrooge. Do it, then.

\_Ghost sits by fireplace.']

Ghost. You don't believe in me?

Scrooge. I don't.

Ghost. Why do you doubt your senses ?

Scrooge. Because a little thing affects them. Do
you see this toothpick ?

82 A CHRISTMAS CAROL

Ghost. I do.

Scrooge. You are not looking at it.

Ghost. I see it, nevertheless.

Scrooge. I have but to swallow this, and be per-
secuted by a legion of goblins, all of my own crea-
tion. Humbug, I tell you, humbug!

[The Ghost shakes its chains and groans.
Scrooge is frightened ; trembles.)

Mercy, spirit ! mercy !

Ghost. Do you believe in me or not?

Scrooge. I do, I must. But why do spirits walk
the earth ?

Ghost. It is required of every man that the spirit
within him should walk abroad among his fellow
men, and travel far and wide. If that spirit goes
not forth in life, it is condemned to do so after
death.

Scrooge (thoughtfully). You didn't go about
much, Jacob.

Ghost [not heeding). It is doomed to wander
through the world — oh, woe is me ! — and witness
what it cannot share.

\_Groans and shakes its chains.']

Scrooge {trembling). You are fettered. Tell me
why.

Ghost. I wear the chain I forged in life. I made
it link by Unk, and yard by yard. I girded it on of
my own free will, and of my own free will I wore it.
Mark you what it is made of !

"IN LIFE I WAS TOUR PARTNER, JACOB MARLET."

84 A CHRISTMAS CAROL

Scrooge. Cash-boxes, keys, padlocks, ledgers,
deeds, and great purses wrought in steel. It is heavy
for you, Jacob.

Ghost. Your chain -will be heavier still ; you have
labored on it seven years longer.

Scrooge. My chain ?

Ghost. Aye, your chain ! And made, like this,
of cash-boxes, padlocks, deeds.

Scrooge. Will I bear it about forever?

Ghost. I cannot tell you what I would. But look
upon me and take heed. I cannot rest, I cannot
stay, I cannot linger anywhere.

Scrooge. Strange ! In life you were never rest-
less.

Ghost. No — in life my spirit never walked be-
yond our counting-house — mark me ! — in life my
spirit never roved beyond the narrow limits of our
money-changing hole.

Scrooge. You did n't have time. You were a
good business man, Jacob.

Ghost. Business ! Mankind was my business.
The common welfare was my business ; charity,
mercy, forbearance, and benevolence, were, all, my
business. Hear me, my time is nearly gone !

Scrooge. I will, but don't be flowery, Jacob !

Ghost. The dealings of my trade were but a drop
of water in the ocean of my business. And now no
rest, no peace — incessant tortures of remorse. And
that will be your fate, Ebenezer.

A CHRISTMAS CAROL 85

Scrooge. Is there no way of escape ! Speak,
Jacob ! Comfort me !

Ghost. Yes, you have a chance — a chance of my
procuring.

ScKOOGE. What is it, Jacob ? Speak ! Tell me !

Ghost. You will be haunted by three Spirits.

Scrooge. I — I think I 'd rather not !

Ghost. Without their visits, you cannot hope to
shun the path Itread. Expect the first whenlam gone.

Scrooge. Could n't I take 'em all at once, and
have it over, Jacob ?

Ghost. Look to see me no more ; and look that,
for your own sake, you remember what has passed
between us ! Farewell, Ebenezer Scrooge, farewell !

[Ghost walks backward toward window, which
now opens of itself. The Ghost floats out. Scrooge
closes window, locks door, returns to fireplace.']

Scrooge. Humbug ! All a dream ! (Pause.)
Well, now, was it a dream?

(Bright light streams into room. Enter the first
Spirit. Its face is like a child's; its hair is white
with age. It wears a tunic of white trimmed with
roses. It carries a hunch of green holly in its
hand.)

Who are you ?

Spirit. I am the ghost of Christmas Past.

Scrooge. Long past ?

Spirit. Your past. Your welfare brings me here.
Rise and walk with me !

86 A CHRISTMAS CAROL

Scrooge. It is bleak without — I am but lightly
clad — I have a wretched cold —

Spibit. It is your reclamation. Take heed !

Scrooge. Oh, I will go — of course — of course !

Spirit. Come !

\_Tak,es Scrooge's hand and crosses toward win-
dow, which again opens of itself.

Scrooge. Spirit — stop! I am but mortal — I
will fall !

Spirit {laying its hand on Scrooge's heart).
Bear but a touch of my hand on your heart, and
you shall be upheld in more than this. Come !

Scene II

Time : a few minutes later.

Place : a country road, near a village.

[ JL clear, cold winter day. The fields are covered
with snow. Enter First Spirit and Scrooge.]

Scrooge {looking about). What! Here — here
in this place ! Why, I was a boy here !

Spirit. Remember, then, your boyhood days.

Scrooge. I do — I do ! I seem to remember every-
thing — the hopes, the joys, the cares.

Spirit. Your lip is trembling. What is that on
your cheek ?

Scrooge {brushing away a tear). Nothing —
nothing —

{Shouting is heard in the distance.]

A CHRISTMAS CAROL 87

Here come the very boys I knew — the boys 1
went to school with !

Spirit. These are but shadows of the things that
have been. They have no consciousness of us.

[Enter several Schoolboys, laughing and shout-
ing. They pelt one another with snowballs and
finally separate, some going this way, some that,
calling after one another."]

First Boy. Merry Christmas !

Sbcokd Boy. Merry Christmas !

Third Boy. A Happy New Year!
\_They disappear.]

Scrooge {delighted). That is just the way we
used to do ! Hear them ! They are calling to each
other across the fields ! " Merry Christmas ! — Merry
Christmas ! " they are saying !

Spirit. Out upon "Merry Christmas"! Whatgood
has it ever done them ? Have they ever made a penny
by it?

Scrooge. I understand your rebuke, Spirit.
{He wipes his eyes with his cuffs.)

I wish — but it 's too late now.

Spirit. What is the matter ?

Scrooge. Nothing — ^ nothing. There was a boy
singing a Christmas Carol at my door last night. I
should like to have given him something — that 'sail.

Spirit. Ah ! Let us see another Christmas !

\_The Spirit waves its hand, and the scene dis-
appears into the darkness of the night.]

88 A CHRISTMAS CAROL

Scene III

Time : a few minutes later.

Place : interior of a large warehouse.

\_An old gentleman, wearing a wig, sits behind
a high desk. Two clerks, both young, are at desks
near by. winter the Spirit and Scrooge.]

Spirit. Do you know this place ?

Scrooge. Know it ! I was apprenticed here !
Why, it's old Fezziwig! Bless his heart — it 's Fezzi-
wig ! And there is Dick Wilkins at that desk to the
right ! And — and there is myself at the other ! How
strange !

Spirit. No, I am the Ghost of Christmas Past.

Scrooge. I was very fond of Dick. Poor Dick !
Dear, dear ! Look at old Fezziwig ! See him look at
the clock and throw down his pen! And it's before
the hour of closing !

Fezziwig. Yo, ho, my boys ! No more work to-
night ! Christmas Eve, Dick ! Christmas, Ebenezer !

(All leave desks. The Apprentices take up their
hats and comforters.)

No, no, my boys ! Put down your hats and comf or^
ters ! You are to dine with us tonight.

(Miter Mrs. Fezziwig, one vast substantial
smile.)

Mrs. Fezziwig comes now to invite you.

Mrs. Fezziwig. And will the young gentlemen

A CHRISTMAS CAROL 89

honor our table with their presence tonight? No re-
fusals now — 't is Christmas Eve, remember.

Dick. You are very kind to us, Madam.

Ebbnezer. Indeed, you are very, very kind !

Scrooge {poking Spirit). Just what I said, ex-
actly.

Mrs. Fezziwig. Come, then, my friends.

Fezziwig. To table now — to table !

Dick. You are always so kind, dear Mr. Fezziwig !

Ebenezer. Dear Mr. Fezziwig, you are so, so
kind.

\_They go, laughing and talking.']

Scrooge. Marvelous ! I said those very words, I
did. But, really, there never was such a man as Mr.
Fezziwig. Who else would invite 'prentices to dine
on Christmas Eve ? No one ! I repeat it — no one !

Spirit. A small matter to make you so full of
gratitude.

Scrooge. Small!

Spirit. Is it not ? It cost him little to dine you.

Scrooge (warmly). It isn't that! He has the
power to render us happy or unhappy — to make
our service light or heavy, a pleasure or a toil. Say
that his power lies in words and looks — what then ?
The happiness he gives is quite as great as if it cost
a fortune. I wish —

[-STe pauses.']

Spirit. What is it ?

Scrooge. Nothing particular.

90 A CHRISTMAS CAROL

Spirit. Something, I think ?

Scrooge. Well — I wish I could say a word or
two to my clerk just now.

Spirit. Ah ! Come now, I must conduct you
hence. My service to you is completed. Come —
come —

\_The Spirit takes Scrooge's hand. They go."]

ACT III

Ebenezee Scrooge.

Spirit of Christmas Past. Second Young CraTch-

Spirit of Christmas Pre- it.

sent. Tiny Tim

Spirit of Christmas Yet Scrooge's Nephew.

to Come. Nephew's Wife.

Bob Cratchit. Topper.

Mrs. Cratchit, his Wife. Plump Sister.

Belinda Cratchit. Thin Sister.

Peter Cratchit. A Friend.

TMartha Cratchit. Second Friend.

First Young Cratchit. Third Friend.

Two Children of the Poor.

Scene I

Time : a few minutes later.
Place : hall of Scrooge's lodgings.

[JL door at the hack, opening on the hall, is
closed. Enter Spirit of Christmas Past and
Scrooge.]

A CHRISTMAS CAROL 91

Scrooge. Why — my own hall again ! And there
is the door to my sitting-room !

Spirit. Another Spirit waits for you within. Go
— enter. I leave you now. Farewell, farewell — I
shall not come again.

[2%e Spirit disappears. Scrooge hesitates, then
knocks timidly at door.l

Voice (within). Come in ! Come in !

l^Scrooge opens the door. The sitting-room is seen
transformed. It is hung with Christmas greens;
a great fire blazes on the hearth; heaped up to
form a throne, are fruits, nuts, cakes, candies.
Upon this throne sits the Spirit op Christmas
Present, a jolly giant wearing a green robe bor-
dered with white fur; on its head is a holly
wreath. It waves a glowing torch upon Scrooge,
who enters timidly.']

Spirit. Come in and know me better, man ! I am
the Ghost of Christmas Present. Look upon me !

Scrooge (humbly). Spirit, you are beautiful ! I
have never seen anything like you before !

Spirit. What ! Why, I am the very Spirit of
Christmas time ! Look at my holly, and ivy, and
mistletoe ! Look at my fruits, my nuts, and my
sweetmeats! Look at my blazing fire upon the
hearth ! Look at the torch I carry !

Scrooge. It looks like the horn of plenty. Have
you aught within it, Spirit?

Spirit. 'T is a miraculous torch and 't is full of

92 A CHRISTMAS CAROL

good humor, peace, and good will. I sprinkle it
freely on all who pass. {Rising.) Are you willing to
go forth with me ?

Scrooge (submissively). Conduct me where you
will. If you have aught to teach me, let me profit
by it.

Spirit. Touch my robe. Come !

Scene II

Time : a few minutes later.

Place: living-room of the Cratchits^ home.

[Mrs. Cratchit and Belinda are setting the
table. Both wear cheap dresses, but are brave in
ribbons. Peter, in a great collar, is watching a
saucejyaii on the hob. He blows the fire frequently.
Enter the Spirit and Scrooge.]

Scrooge {whispering). They will see us — hear
us talk !

Spirit. We are invisible — neither can they hear
our words. Wait — I will bless this dwelling.
\_It sprinkles the threshold with its torch."]

Scrooge. These people must be very poor. Why
do you come here ? Do you know them ?

Spirit. They should be friends of yours. This is
the home of Bob Cratchit.

Mrs. Cratchit. Belinda, my love, is that table
cloth straight?

A CHRISTMAS CAROL 93

Belinda. Dear, dear, I 'm afraid not !
\_She rearranges doth instantly.']

Mrs. Ckatchit. Are the potatoes cooking, Peter,
mv dear?
J Petek. They are knocking against the lid, mother.

Mrs. Cratchit. They want to get out and be
mashed,
vj Peter. Ha ! ha !

Belinda. Ha ! ha !

Mrs. Cratchit. Here 's the masher. I '11 leave it
all to you, Peter.

\_Enter the tioo Young Cratchits, running and
breathless with excitement. ]

First Young Cratchit. I smelt our goose at the
baker's !

Second Young Cratchit. And so did I ! I smelt

am

it pL

, Belinda. How did you know it was our goose ?

J Peter. The baker is baking dozens today.

First Young Cratchit. I just know it was our
goose.

Second Young Cratchit. And so do I ! Don't
you think so, mother ?

Mrs. Cratchit. Of course it was our goose, dears.
Now see if your father is coming. He and Tiny Tim
are late, and Martha was n't as late last Christmas
Day by half an hour — that's certain.

Belinda. Here 's Martha, mother !

[Enter Martha, a young girl in shawl and bon-
netJ]

94 A CHRISTMAS CAROL

Young Crachits. Here's Martha, mother!
There 's such a goose, Martha !

Mrs. Cratchit. Why, bless your heart alive, my
dear, how late you are !

\_8he kisses Martha and removes her wrapsi]

Martha. We had a lot of work to finish up last
night, and we had to clear away this morning.

Mrs. Cratchit. Never mind so long as you are
come. Sit by the fire, my dear, and have a warm.

First Young Cbatchit. There 's father ! Hide,
Martha !

Second Young Cratchit. Hide, Martha, hide !

[Martha hides. Enter Bob with Tiny Tim upon
his shoulder. Tim carries a little crutch."}

Bob. Home from church, mother — safe and
sound ! Why, where 's our Martha ?

Mrs. Cratchit. Not coming.

Bob. Not coming !

Tiny Tim. Not coming !

Bob. Not coming on Christmas Day ?

[Martha rushes out, laughing. All laugh. Mar-
tha hugs Boh ; t^kes Tiny Tim in her arms and
carries him to the fireplace.']

Mrs. Cratchit {to Young Cratchits). Fetch the
goose, you two ! Be careful, be most careful !

{Exit Young Cratchits, shouting. Mrs. Cratchit
and Bob talk in low voices aside.)

How did little Tim behave in church ?

Bob. As good as gold, and better. He told me

A CHRISTMAS CAROL 95

coming home, that he hoped the people saw him in
the church, because he was a cripple.

Mrs. Cbatchit. Well now, is n't that strange !

Bob. He said it might be pleasant to them to
remember upon Christmas Day who made lame beg-
gars walk, and blind men see.

Mrs. Cratchit (wiping her eyes). Well — well —

\_Unter the two Young Cratchits with the baked
goose-l

Young Cratchits. The goose ! The goose !

Mrs. Cratchit. Dear ! dear ! Is n't it beautiful !

[^She places it proudly upon the table. All cross
to look at it."]

Bob. There never was such a goose !

Belinda. Did you ever see such a fat goose?

Peter. Did you ever see such a large goose?

Martha. I know it 's going to be tender.

Tint Tim. Does n't it smell beautiful?

Mrs. Cratchit. Bring your potatoes, Peter. Be-
linda, sweeten the apple sauce. Put up the chairs.
Young Cratchits. Martha, you pour the water.

[Bustle and confusion. At last, glasses are filled;
all sit down. Bob rises and lifts his glass.l

Bob. a Merry Christmas to us all> my dears !
God bless us !

Tint Tim. God bless us, every one !
[All drink to the toast. Bob lifts his glass again.']

Bob. Here 's to the health of Mr. Scrooge, the
Founder of the Feast !

96 A CHRISTMAS CAROL

Mrs. Cbatchit. The Founder of the Feast, in-
deed ! I wish I had him here. I 'd give him a piece of
my mind to feast upon. I 'd tell him to his face that he
makes you work much too hard, Mr. Cratchit, and
pays you far too little.

Bob. My dear — the children — Christmas Day.

Mbs. Cratchit. Well, he is a stingy, hard, unfeel-
ing man. You know he is — nobody knows it better
than you do, poor fellow.

Bob. My dear — Christmas Day —

Mrs. Cratchit. I '11 drink his health for your sake
and the day's, not for his.

{Holds up her glass.)

Long life to him ! A Merry Christmas and a Happy
New Year !

\_All drinh, but without heart or interest. The
dinner is served, and the Cratchits eat.']

ScRooge. It is plain that I am the Ogre here, even
to Tiny Tim there.

Spirit. Do you deserve anything better ?

Scrooge. No, not even that my name be men-
tioned. I wish I could do something for Tiny Tim
— he is so delicate. Tell me. Spirit, if he will live.

Spirit. What difference does it make ? If he be
like to die, he had better do it and decrease the sur-
plus population.

Scrooge. I regret I ever spoke such words — I
^■egret them deeply. Spirit.

Spirit. Is it for you to say what the surplus is

A CHRISTMAS CAROL 97

and where it is? It may be, that in the sight of
Heaven you are more worthless and less fit to live
than this poor man's child.

[Scrooge hangs his head, overcome with penitence
and grief. Pause.)

Come, another scene awaits you.

[2%e scene fades into darkness."]

Scene III
Time : a few minutes later.

Place : home of Scrooge's Ne'phew; the cheerful living
room.

[ Scrooge's Nephew, the Nephew's "Wife, the
Wife's two Sisters, Topper, and severql Friends
are gathered around thefireplace. Enter the Spirit
of Christmas Present with Scrooge.]

Nephew. Ha, ha, ha ! He said Christmas was a
humbug, as I live ! He believed it, too !

Wife. More shame for him !

Topper. They say he is very rich.

Nephew. His wealth is of no use to him. He
does n't do any good with it. He doesn't even make
himself comfortable.

Wife. I have no patience with him !

Plump Sister. No, nor I !

Thin Sister. Nor I !

Nephew. Oh, I have! I am sorry for him. I
could n't be angry, with him if I tried. I mean to

98 A CHRISTMAS CAROL

wish him a Merry Christmas every year, whether he
likes it or not. And now, my friends, I propose
a game. What do you say to Yes and N'o?

Others. Splendid ! Fine !

Nephew. I '11 begin. Now then — I am thinking
of something. What is it? Remember that I can
only answer Yes or No.

Wife. Is it a bird ?

Nephew. No.

Plump Sister. Is it a fish ?

Nephew. No.

Thin Sister. Is it an animal ?

Nephew. Yes.

Topper. Is it a live animal.

Nephew. Yes.

A Friend. Will it fetch or carry?

Nephew. No.

Second Friend. Is it a pet ?

Nephew. Pet? Ha, ha ! No one would dare to
touch it ! No one would care to touch it !

Wife. Does it live in London ?

Nephew. Yes.

Third Friend. Is it in a menagerie ?

Nephew. No.

Plump Sister. Is it led about the streets ?

Nephew. No.

Topper. Is it ever killed for market?

Nephew. No. Ha, ha!

Thin Sister. Is it a horse ?

A CHRISTMAS CAROL 99

Nephew. No.

First Friend. Is it a tiger ?

Nephew. No.

Second Friend. Is it a bear?

Nephew. No.

Third Friend. Is it a pig?

Nephew. It is both a bear and a pig. Ha, ha, ha,
ha ! Can't you guess it ? Ha, ha, ha, ha !

Wife. I know what it is ! I know what it is !

Others. What? What?

Wipe. It is your Uncle Scro-o-o-o-oge !

Nephew {nodding). Uncle Scrooge.

Others. Ha, ha, ha !

Nephew. Well, here 's a Merry Christmas and a
Happy New Year to the old man, whatever he is !

Spirit. Come. My time on earth is almost done.
Come, come.

\_Darkness hides the scene.']

Scene IV

Time : a few minutes later.

Place : a miserable room in a hovel.

l^Two starving Children are crouching over a
single coal in grate. They are yellow, ragged,
sbowling, wolfish.']

Spirit. To these I shall become visible.

[He holds his torch aloft. The Children run to
him and cling to his robe.]

100 A CHRISTMAS CAROL

Scrooge. They are starving !

Spikit. There are many such.

Scrooge. Can nothing be done for them ?

Spirit. There are prisons and the workhouse.

Scrooge. I repent those cruel words ! Kemove
me, Spirit ! I would aid these poor children here at
once. Come, let us hence ! Let us hence !

Spirit. Nay, you must go with the Spirit that
comes. My task is done — farewell.

[It disappears with the Children. Enter slowly
the Spirit of Christmas Yet to Comb. It is tall,
stately — draped and hooded in black. It comes to
Scrooge, hut does not speak. Pawse.]

Scrooge. Am I in the presence of the Ghost of
Christmas Yet to Come ?

{The Spirit points onward.)

You will show me shadows of the things
that will happen in the time to come, will you
not?

{The Spirit inclines its head; points onward.)

Lead on, Spirit — lead on ! I will follow.
\_The Spirit goes. Scrooge follows.'}

ACT IV

EBENEZEii Scrooge. Second Merchant.

Spirit of Christmas Yet Third Merchant.

to Come. Fourth Merchant.

First Merchant. Fifth Merchant.

Other Merchants.

A CHRISTMAS CAROL 101

Time : af&uo minutes later.

Place: business part of London ; the Merchants' Ex-
change.

\_Merchants are seen talking in groups. Spibit
OF Christmas Yet to Come enters with Sckoogb
and leads him to one of the groups."]

First Merchant. I don't know much about it
either way. I only know he's dead.

Second Merchant. When did he die ?

First Merchant. Last night, I believe.

Third Merchant. What was the matter with him ?

First Merchant (yawning). I didn't ask.

Third Merchant. It 's likely to be a queer funeral.
I don't know of anybody to go to it.

Fourth Merchant. Nor I. He has no friends
here on 'Change.

Fifth Merchant. He made friends with no one.
He was solitary as an oyster.

First Merchant. I shan't miss him in the least.

Second Merchant. No, nor I !

Third Merchant. Oh, but he was a tight-fisted
hand at the grindstone — old Scrooge !

Scrooge. Scrooge ! Are they talking about me,
Spirit?

Fifth Merchant. Well, I must go. Cold, is n't it?

Others. Yes — yes —

[^They separate and stroll away.]

Scrooge. Spirit, hear me! Why do you show

102 A CHRISTMAS CAROL

me this if I am past all hope ? Spirit, I am not the
man I was. I will honor Christmas in my heart. I
will try to keep it all the year. Tell me it is not
too late ! Speak to me, Spirit — I pray you !
{Spirit begins to glide away.) '
Spirit, stay ! Tell me it is not too late ! Spirit, tell
me — tell me !

{Spirit disappears. Scrooge sobs.)
It is too late — too late — too late —

ACT V

Ebenezer Scrooge. A Little Girl.

A Boy. A Portly Gentleman.

A Young Lady. A Beggar.

A Young Gentleman. Scrooge's Nephew.

An Old Lady. Bob Cratchit.

Scene I

Time : the next morning.
Place : Scrooge's sitting-room.

{^Scrooge sits sleeping by the hearth; the fire is
noio out."]

Scrooge {in sleep). Spirit — Spirit — stay ! Not
too late — tell me — not too late —

( The church bells ring merrily. Scrooge wakes,
rises, looks about; is astonished.)

What ! What ! My own room — my chair — my
table — my rug! They are here — I am here! There's

A CHRISTMAS CAROL 103

the door by which Marley entered ! There 's the
window where the Spirits went forth ! It 's all right,
it 's all true, it all happened ! Ha, ha, ha ! Why —
I feel so different — I am as light as a feather — I
am as happy as an angel — I am as merry as a school-
boy!

{Laughs again heartily.)

I don't know what day it is ! I don't know how
long I 've been among the Spirits. I don't know any-
thing. I'm quite a baby. Nevermind, I don't care —
I'd rather be a baby. Whoop ! Whoop ! Hurrah !
{Runs to window and opens it.)

Glorious day — golden sunlight — heavenly sky —
sweet, fresh air — oh, glorious, glorious !
{Leans out window and calls.)

What 's today, my lad ?

Boy {without). Eh?

Scrooge. What's today, my fine fellow?

Boy. Why, Christmas Day !

Scrooge. Here 's a shilling for you, my lad !
\Throws money out.'\

Boy. Thank you, sir ! Merry Christmas !

Scrooge. Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas!
Will you come in, my lad ? I 'd like to speak with you.

Boy. Coming!

{^Scrooge goes to door, unlocks and opens it.
Church hells ring out merrily. Scrooge listens with
delight.']

Scrooge. Glorious — glorious! Wonderful bells !

104 A CHRISTMAS CAROL

It 's Christmas Day for a certainty. I have n't missed
it. The Spirits have done it all in one night. They
can do anything they like — of course they can.
{Enter Boy — a little chap in his Sunday clothes.)

Ah, my lad, now do you know the Poulterer's in
the next street ?

Boy. I should hope I did.

Scrooge. You intelligent boy ! Now do you know
whether they have sold the prize turkey ? Not the
little prize turkey — the big one ?

Boy. The one as big as me ?

Scrooge. Yes, my lad. What a delightful boy
you are ! It 's a pleasure to know you.

Boy. It 's hanging there now.

Scrooge. Go and buy it. Tell 'em to send it to
Mr. BobCratchit, Camden Town. Do you hear that ?
Mr. Bob Cratchit — Camden.

Boy. Yes, sir — I '11 tell 'em.

Scrooge. It 's a surprise — no names to be men-
tioned.

Boy. You 're a jolly one, sir!

Scrooge {chuckling). Am I, now ? Do you think
so ? You 're a wonderful boy. And here 's the money
for the turkey. And here 's half-a-crown for your-
self, my lad.

Boy. Thank you, sir. I 'm o£E !
\_Uxit, running.^

Scrooge. And now to dress myself in my best !
I '11 go to church this glorious day ! I '11 dine with

A CHRISTMAS CAROL 105

my nephew after ! Oh, Jacob Marley, Heaven and
the Christmas Time he pi^aised for this ! You have
saved me, Jacob — you have saved me !

Scene II

Time : three hours later.

Place : street in front of a church.

[Scrooge in his " best," comes from the church
with the other worshipers. He smiles on everyone.']

A Young Lady. Merry Christmas, sir !

Scrooge. Merry. Christmas ! Merry Christmas !
[Aside.) Nice girl — very !

A Young Gentleman. Merry Christmas !

Scrooge. Merry Christmas ! Merry Christmas !
(Aside.) Fine young man !

An Old Lady. Merry Christmas !

Scrooge. Merry Christmas ! Merry Christmas !
(Aside.) Splendid old lady — splendid !

A Little Girl. Merry Christmas !

Scrooge. Merry Christmas, my dear ! (Aside.)
What a beautiful child !

(Enter Portly Gentleman.)

My dear sir, how do you do ? (Shaking the Portly
Gentleman by the hand.) I hope you succeeded yes'
terday. Will you have the goodness to put me down
for —

[Whispers to Portly Gentleman, who shows
astonishment.']

106 A CHRISTMAS CAROL

Gentleman. My dear Mr. Scrooge! Are you
serious ?

Scrooge. Not a farthing less ! A great many
back payments are included, I assure you.

Gentleman. My dear sir, I don't know what to
say to such munificence.

Scrooge. Don't say anything, please. Come and
see me. Will you come and see me ?

Gentleman. I will!

{He shakes Scrooge's hand heartily.)

Bless you, sir ! Bless you !

\^Exit Portly Gentleman. A Beggar passes.
Scrooge hastens after him.']

Scrooge. Why did n't you ask me for alms as you
passed?

Beggar. Ask you? Why — you're old Scrooge!

Scrooge. I 'm new Scrooge, my man — new
Scrooge ! Here (giving money) — and a Merry
Christmas to you !

\_Uxit Scrooge. Beggar looks after him, shaking
his head.]

Beggar. He 's off a bit in his head — old Scrooge.

Scene III

Time : the following morning.
Place : Scrooge's office.

[Scrooge enters from street ; removes hat and

A CHRISTMAS CAROL 107

overcoat ; mends fire, heaping on all the coal in
scuttle. Enter his Nephew.]

Nephew. Good morning, uncle !

ScEOOGE. Why, good morning, my boy! Good
morning !

Nephew. I thought I'd just look in on my way
to work and see how you felt this morning.

ScEOOGB. Never better, never ! That was a glori-
ous Christmas dinner, my boy. And then the games
afterwards — ha, ha ! Wonderful — wonderful !

Nephew. I am so glad you enjoyed them.

ScEOOGB. Your wife is very charming. Nephew.
Her sisters are charming, too. And what a fine fel-
low Topper is ! Wonderful party. Nephew, wonder-
ful party !

Nephew. We want you to come often, Uncle —
as often as you would like.

ScEOOGE. Thank 'ee, my boy, thank 'ee.

Nephew {looking at clock). Time for me to be
on my way. By-by, Uncle !

ScEOOGB. By-by !

{Exit Nephew. Scrooge looks at clock.)

Ha, ha ! A full quarter after nine ! Bob Cratchit is
late — a full quarter of an hour, too. Ha, ha! This
is the very thing I wanted.

{He chuckles; goes to desk; works; chuckles
again.)

The very thing I wanted !

{Enter Bob, hurriedly ; glances at clock ; throws

108 A CHRISTMAS CAROL

off hat and comforter and is at work in an instant.
Scrooge growls at him.)

What do you mean by coming Here at this time
of day?

Bob. I am very sorry, sir. I am behind my
time.

Scrooge. You are ? Yes, I think you are. Step
this way, sir, if you please.

Bob (crossing). It 's only once a year, sir. It
shall not be repeated. I was making rather merry
yesterday, sir.

SoBOOGE. I am not going to stand this sort of
thing any longer, sir. And therefore — I am about
to raise your salary !

Bob (trembling). What, sir ?

ScBOOGB (clapping him on the hack). A Merry
Christmas ! I '11 raise your salary, I tell you ! And
I mean to do all I can for Tiny Tim — I 've taken a
great fancy to him. Now make up the fire, Bob, and
buy a larger coal-scuttle before you dot another i,
Bob Cratchit !

JEAN VALJEAN*

PROLOGUE

Time: 1795.

Place : France; village of Faverolles?

Jean Valjean. A Woman.

Makie Claude.3 Second Woman.

A Man. Third Woman.

Second Man. Bakeh.

Third Man.'^ Officer.

Soldiers and Villagers.

[A crowd 0/ Villagers stand in the main street,
in front of the' Hall of Justice. Enter Maris
Claude, a farmer's wife.']

Marie Claude. Has the trial begun ?

A Man. Yes — a half hour ago.

Marie Claude. How does it go — against him?

Second Man. We do not know. The doors stay
closed, as you may see.

A Woman. The baker has been called in — he
from whom the bread was stolen.

Marie Claude. Why does he accuse Jean Val-
jean?

1 zhaN val zhaN'. » fav rol'. ' ma r5' klod'.

110 JEAN VALJEAN

Second Woman. He saw Jean take the bread.
He ran after him and caught him.

TmBD Woman. Did not this Jean get milk from
you?

Marie Claude. Yes, and paid for every pint.
This winter they have not bought their milk from
me.

Third Woman. They have not bought milk from
anyone this winter.

Marie Claude. Why is that ?

Third Man. Jean has had no work. And a hard
winter it has been, too.

A Man. Yes, yes — that it has !

Third Man. I know Jean Valjean — there is no
better worker anywhere, when work is to be found.

First Man. That is true — he has made a drudge
of himself since he was a lad.

First Woman. Aye, he has had to support a sis-
ter and her seven little children.

Marie Claude. 'T was for these children Jean
bought milk. He would not drink a drop himself.
And listen — he often gave his food to them, and
he went hungry to the fields.

Second Woman. They have been half starved all
winter. You have only to see them to know that.

First Man. Then it was fqr them he took the
bread. He could not bear to see them starving.

Marie Claude. I believe that, neighbor ! He was
always honest with me about the milk.

JEAN VAUEAN 111

Second Man. Hush — the door opens !

\_Enter the Baker from the Hall of Justice. All
'press forward.']

Third Man. What news, baker ? What news ?

Baker. He has been found guilty. He is sen-
tenced to the galleys.

Others {horrified). The galleys !

Baker. Aye, for five years.

Marie Claude. That is a terrible punishment for
a loaf of bread.

Baker. What would you ? Is he not a thief ?

Third Woman. He stole for starving children.

Baker. He is a thief — he must be punished by
the law.

A Man. Hush — he comes !

[Enter an Officer and Soldiers with Jean
Valjean. He is a young man, worn and thin, but
strongly built, and intelligent. They pass through
the crowd and down the street.]

ACT I

Jean Valjean. y

A Guard. Her Attendant. >/

Landlord of the Inn The Bishop of D —

at D . Mademoiselle, His Sister.

A Fisherman. Madame, His Housekeeper.

A Lady. An Officer.

Soldiers and Villagers.

112 JEAN VAUEAN

Scene I

Time: nineteen years later ; evening.
Place : France ; village of D .

The town gate, is seen ; a Guard marches bach
and forth. On one side of the street is an inn. Op-
posite is a cottage. Jean Valjean enters the gate.
He is now a middle-aged man of wretched appear-
ance — brutal and fierce. He carries a new knap-
sack on his back and a cudgel in his hand-l

Guakd. Halt ! Your passport, stranger !

{Jean takes a yellow paper from his coat. The
Guard shows sudden interest, as he takes it.)

Ah — 't is yellow ! You are a convict, then ?

Jean (sullenly). Yes.

Guard (reading passport). You have been in the
galleys, I see.

Jean. Yes.

Guard. And you have just been released?

Jean. Yes.

Guard. How long were you there ?

Jean. Nineteen years.

Guard. Nineteen years ! Your crime must have
been a terrible one !

Jean. I was sentenced for five years. I tried to
escape — they added five years for that. Then I
tried again to escape — that gave me nine years
longer.

JEAN VALJEAN 113

Guard. Your passport says that you are a dan-
gerous man. {Handing passport to Jean.) Why do
you come here ?

Jean. For a night's lodging.

Guard. There is the inn, hut I douht if they will
take you.

Jean. I will try.
I \Jean knocks at the inn door. The Landlord
appears.']

Landlord. What do you wish ?

Jean. Food and lodging for the night.

Landlord. Nothing easier — if you can pay.

Jean. I have money.

\_He shows money.']

Landlord. We are at your service.

Jean. Will supper be ready soon ?

Landlord. Immediately.

Jean. I will wait here.

IHe sits on a bench with his hack to the gate.
The Guard beckons to the Landlord, who crosses
and whispers with him aside. The Landlord
crosses to Jean.]

Landlord. I cannot receive you here.

Jean. What ! Are you afraid I will not pay you ?

Landlord. It is not that.

Jean. What, then ?

Landlord. I have no room.

Jean. Put me in the stable.

Landlord. I cannot.

114 JEAN VALJEAN

Jean. Why?

Landlord. The horses take up all the space.

Jean. Very well, a corner of the loft, then, a truss
of straw. We will see about it after supper.

Landlord. I cannot give you supper.

Jean. But I am dying of hunger ! I have been
walking since sunrise. I pay — I wish to eat.

Landlord. I have nothing.
[Jean rises and looks through the window.']

Jean. Nothing ! And all that ?

Landlord. All that is engaged.

Jean. By whom ?

Landlord. By the wagoners.

Jean. How many are there ?

Landlord. Twelve.

Jean. There is food enough there for twenty !

Landlord. They have engaged it all and have
paid for it in advance.

Jean (sitting). I am at an inn ; I am hungry,
and I shall remain.

Landlord (in low voice, but sternly). Go away !

Jean. Why should I go away?

Landlord. Stop! We have had talk enough. You
are Jean Valjean — you are a convict — in your
pocket is a yellow passport. Do you deny this ?
(Pause. Jean stares at Landlord dumbly.)

Go!

Jean. Where shall I go ?

Landlord. Elsewhere.

JEAN VAUEAN 115

Jean. There is no other inn for miles around.

Landlord. You can sleep in the open.

Jean. There is a cold wind blowing down from
the mountains now. I am chilled through as I stand
here.

Landlord. Go away ! Go away, I tell you !

(As Jean picks up his knapsack, several Guests
appear at door of inn. I'he Landlord whispers to
them, pointing to Jean.)

He is a convict from the galleys — a very danger-
ous man. Come within — there's danger to be near
him.

[The Guests disappear. The Landlord closes
the door. As Jean starts away, a Fisherman with
his net enters the gate.^

Jean. Pardon me, sir. Could you give me a bed
in your home tonight ?

Fisherman. Who are you, stranger?

Jean. I come from the coast. Will you take me ?
I can pay.

Fisherman. Why do you not go to the inn there ?

Jean. There is no room.

Fisherman. Bah ! Impossible. This is neither a
fair nor a market day. Why would they not take you
in?

Jean (shaking head). They would not receive
me.

Fisherman. Then something is wrong. Did you
not have a passport ?

116 JEAN VALJEAN

Jeaht. Yes.

Fisherman. Let me see it.

{Jean reluctantly produces his yellow passport.
The Fisherman starts.)

Ah ! 'Tis yellow ! Then you must be a —

Jean (hurriedly). I will pay you well, sir! I pray
you to take me in ! I am starving !

Fisherman (going). No — no!

Jean. For pity's sake — a glass of water !

Fisherman. No — no!

[^Exit hastily. Jean throws himself on the
ground ; puts his knapsack under his head. Pause.
Several Villagers leave the inn and hurry off.
Enter a Lady with a woman Attendant.]

Lady. 'T was a beautiful service. The good
Bishop never spoke better.

Attendant. 'T was indeed beautiful, madame.

Lady (discovering Jean). Why, what are you
doing there, good friend ?

Jean (gruffly). I am sleeping.

Lady. On the ground — this cold night?

Jean. I have slept on wood for nineteen years.

Lady. You have been a soldier ?

Jean. Yes — ^yes, a soldier.

Lady. Why do you not go to the inn ?

Jean. I — I have no money.

Lady (to Attendant). My purse, please.

Attendant. You gave all you had to the Bishop,
madame.

JEAN VAUEAN 117

Lady. So I did ! You must not spend the night
here, stranger.

Jean. I have knocked at all doors. I have beeu
driven away from everywhere.

Lady. You have knocked at all doors, you say ?

Jean. Yes.

Lady {pointing to cottage). Have you knocked
at that door ?

Jean. No.

Lady. Knock there.

[Exit with Attendant. Jean rises and stands
irresolutely before the cottage door.^

Scene II
Time : the same evening.

Place : village ofD ; dining room of the Bishop's

house.

\_The room is poorly furnished, hut orderly.
A door at the hack, opens on the street. At one
side, a window overlooks the garden ; at the other,
curtains hang before an alcove. Mademoiselle,
the Bishop's Sister, a sweetfaced lady, sits by the
fire, knitting. Madame, his Housekeeper, is lay-
ing the table for supper. 1

Mllb. Has the Bishop returned from the service ?

Madame. Yes, Mademoiselle. He is in his room,
reading. Shall I call him ?

Mlle. No, do not disturb him — he will come in
good time — when supper is ready.

118 JEAN VALJEAN

Madame. Dear me — I forgot to get bread when
I went out today.

Mlle. Go to the baker's, then; we will wait.

[^Exit Madame. Pause. Enter the Bishop. He
is an old man, gentle and kindly.^

Bishop. I hope I have not kept you waiting,
sister.

Mlle. No, brother, Madame has just gone out
for bread. She forgot it this morning.

Bishop {having seated himself by the fire.) The
wind blows cold from the mountains tonight.

Mlle. {nodding). All day it has been growing
colder.

Bishop. 'T will bring great suffering to the poor.

Mlle. Who suffer too much already."

Bishop. I would I could help them more than
I do!

Mlle. You give all you have, my brother. You
keep nothing for yourself — you have only bare
necessities.

Bishop. Well, I have sent in a bill for carriage
hire in making pastoral visits.

Mlle. Carriage hire ! I did not know you ever
rode. Now I am glad to hear that. A bishop should
go in state sometimes. I venture to say your bill is
small.

Bishop. Three thousand francs.

Mlle. Three thousand francs! Why, I cannot
believe it !

JEAN VAUEAN 119

Bishop. Here is the bill.

Mlle. [reading bill). What is this !

Expenses of Carriage

For furnishing soup to hospital .... 1,500 francs

For charitable society of D . . . . 500 "

For foundlings 500 "

For orphans 500 "

Total ....... 3,000 francs

So ! that is your carriage hire ! Ha, ha ! I might
have known it !

[7%ey laugh together. Sinter Madame, excited,
with bread."]

Madame. Such news as I have heard ! The whole
town is talking about it ! We should have locks put
on our doors at once !

Mlle. What is it, Madame ? What have you
heard ?

Madame. They say there is a suspicious vagabond
in the town. The inn-keeper refused to take him in.
' They say he is a released convict who once com-
mitted an awful crime.

[The Bishop is looking into the fire, paying no
attention to Madame.]

Mlle. Do you hear what Madame is saying,
brother ?

Bishop. Only a little. Are we in danger, Madame?

Madame. There is a convict in town, your Rev-
erence !

120 JEAN VALJEAN

Bishop. Do you fear we shall be robbed ?

Madame. I do, indeed !

Bishop. Of what?

Madame. There are the six silver plates and the
silver soup-ladle and the two silver candlesticks.

Bishop. All of which we could do without.

Madame. Do without !

Mlle. 'T would be a great loss, brother. We
could not treat a guest as is our wont.

Bishop. Ah, there you have me, sister. I love to
see the silver laid out for every guest who comes
here. And I like the candles lighted, too ; it makes
a brighter welcome.

Mlle. A bishop's house should show some state.

Bishop. Aye — to every stranger! Henceforth,
I should like every one of our six plates on the
table whenever we have a guest here.

Mlle. All of them ?

Madame. For one guest?

Bishop. Yes — we have no right to hide treas-
ures. Each guest shall enjoy all that we have.

Madame. Then 't is time we should look to the
locks on the doors, if we would keep our silver. I '11
go for the locksmith now —

Bishop. Stay! This house shall not be locked
against any man ! Would you have me lock out
my brothers ?

{A loud knock is heard at street door.)

Come io !

JEAN VAUEAN 121

[Miter Jean Valjban, with Ms knapsack and
cudgel. The women are frightened.']

Jean (roughly). See here ! My name is Jean Val-
jean. I am a convict from the galleys. I was set free
four days ago, and I am looking for work. I hoped
to find a lodging here, but no one will have me. It
was the same way yesterday and the day before.
Tonight a good woman told me to knock at your
door. I have knocked. Is this an inn ?

Bishop. Madame, put on another plate.

Jean. Stop ! You do not understand, I think.
Here is my passport — see what it says : " Jean Val-
jean, discharged convict, has been nineteen years in
the galleys ; five years for theft ; fourteen years for
having attempted to escape. He is a very dangerous
man. " There ! you know it all. I as^ only for straw
in your stable.

Bishop. Madame, you will put white sheets on
the bed in the alcove.

(JExit Madame. The Bishop turns to Jean.)

We shall dine presently. Sit here by the fire,
sir.

Jean. What! You will keep me? You call me
" sir " ! Oh ! I am going to dine ! I am to have a
bed with sheets like the rest of the world — a bed ! It
is nineteen years since I have slept in a bed ! I will pay
anything you ask. You are a fine man. You are an
innkeeper, are you not ?

Bishop. I am a priest who lives here.

n^ JEAN VALJEAN

Jean, a priest ! Ah, yes — I ask your pardon — i
I did n't notice your cap and gown.

Bishop. Be seated near the fire, sir.

[Jeara deposits his knapsack, repeating to him-
self with delight.']

Jean. He calls me sir — sir. {Aloud.) You will
require me to pay, will you not?

Bishop. No,keepyourmoney. Howmuch have you?

Jean. One hundred and nine francs.

Bishop. How long did it take you to earn it ?

Jean. Nineteen years.

Bishop ( sadly ). Nineteen years — the best part of
your life !

Jean. Aye, the best part — I am now forty-six.
A beast of burden would have earned more.

Bishop. This lamp gives a very bad light, sister.

\_Mlle. gets the two candlesticks from the man-
tel, lights them, and places them on the table.']

Jean. Ah, but you are good ! You don't despise
me. You light your candles for me — you treat me
as a guest — and I've told you where I come from,
who I am !

Bishop. This house does not demand of him who
enters whether he has a name, but whether he has a
grief. You sufEer — you are hungry — you are wel-
come.

Jean. I cannot understand it- —

Bishop. This house is home to the man who needs
a refuge. So, sir, this is your house now more than

" NINETEEN YEARS ! AND NOW THE YELLOW PASSPORT ! '

124 JEAN VALJEAN

it is mine. Whatever is here is yours. What need
have I to know your name ? Besides, before you told
me, I knew it.

Jean. What ! You knew my name !

Bishop. Yes, your name is — Brother.

Jean. Stop ! I cannot bear it — you are so good —

[ZTe buries his face hi his hands. Enter Madame
with dishes for the table ; she continues passing in
and out, preparing supper. '[

Bishop. You have suffered much, sir —

Jean {nodding). The red shirt, the ball on the
ankle, a plank to sleep on, heat, cold, toil, the whip,
the double chain for nothing, the cell for one word
— even when sick in bed, still the chain ! Dogs,
dogs are happier ! Nineteen years ! and now the
yellow passport !

Bishop. Yes, you have suffered.

Jean {with violence). I hate this world of laws
and courts ! I hate the men who rule it ! For nine-
teen years my soul has had only thoughts of hate.
For nineteen years I 've planned revenge. Do you
hear? Kevenge — revenge!

Bishop. It is not strange that you should feel so.
And if you continue to harbor those thoughts, you
are only deserving of pity. But listen, my brother;
if, in spite of all you have passed through, your
thoughts could be of peace and love, you would be
better than any one of us.

\_Pause. Jean reflects.']

JEAN VALJEAN 125

Jean (speaking violently). No, no ! I do not be-
long to your world of men. I am apart — a diiferent
creature from you all. The galleys made me different.
I'll have nothing to do with any of you !

Madame. The sup^r, your Reverence.
\_The Bishop glances at the table.']

Bishop. It strikes me there is something missing
iTom this table.

[Madame hesitates.']

Mlle. Madame, do you not understand?

[Madame steps to a cupboard, gets the remaining
silver plates, and places them on the table.]

Bishop {gaily, turning to Jean). To table then,
my friend ! To table !

[Jean remains for a moment, standing doggedly
apart; then he steps over to the chair awaiting him,
jerks it back, and sinks into it, without looking up.]

Scene III

Time: dayhreah the next morning.
Place : the Bishop's dining room.

[The room is dark, except for a faint light that
comes in through window curtains. Jean Valjban
creeps in from the alcove. He carries his knap-
sack and cudgel in one hand ; in the other, his shoes.
He opens the window overlooking the garden; the
room becomes lighter. Jean steps to the mantel and
lifts a silver candlestick.]

126 JEAN VALJEAN

Jean {whispering). Two hundred francs — double
what I have earned in nineteen years !

{He puts it in his knapsack ; takes up the other
candlestick ; shudders, and sets it down again.)

No, no, he is good — he called me " sir " —

{He stands still, staring before him, his hand still
gripping the candlestick. Suddenly he straightens
up; speaks bitterly.)

Why not ? 'T is easy to give a bed and food ! Why
doesn't he keep men from the galleys? Nineteen
years for a loaf of bread !

{Pauses a moment, then resolutely puts both
candlesticks into his bag ; steps to the cupboard and
takes out the silver plates and the ladle, and slips
them, into the bag.)

All solid — I should gain at least one thousand
francs. 'T is due me — due me for all these years !
{Closes the bag. Pause.)

No — not the candles — I owe him that much —

l_ireputs the candlesticks on mantel; takes up
cudgel, knapsack, and shoes ; jumps out window
and disappears. Pause. Enter Madame, She shiv-
ers; discovers the open window. 1

Madame. Why is that window open ? I closed it
last night myself. Oh ! Could it be possible ?
{Crosses and looks at open cupboard.)

It is gone !

{Unter the Bishop /rom his room.']

Bishop. Good morning, Madame !

JEAN VAUEAN 127

Madame. Your Reverence ! The silver is gone !
Where is that man ?

Bishop. In the alcove sleeping, I suppose.

{Madame runs to curtains of alcove and looks
in. Enter Mademoiselle. Madame turns.)

He is gone !

Mllb. Gone?

Madame. Aye, gone — gone ! He has stolen our
silver^ the beautiful plates and the ladle ! I '11 in-
form the police at once!

\_Starts off. The Bishop stops her.'\

Bishop. Wait ! — Let me ask you this — was
that silver ours ? .

Madame. Why — why not ?

Bishop. Because it has always belonged to the
poor. I have withheld it wrongfully.

Mlle. Its loss makes no difference to Madame
or me.

Madame. Oh, no ! But what is your Reverence
to eat from now ?

Bishop. Are there no pewter plates ?

Madame. Pewter has an odor.

Bishop. Iron ones, then.

Madame. Iron has a taste.

Bishop. Well, then, wooden plates.

{A knock is heard at street door.)

Come in.

[Enter an Osticee and two Soldiers, dragging
in Jean Valjean.]

128 JEAN VALJEAN

' Officer. Your Eeverence, we found your silver
on this man.

Bishop. Why not ? I gave it to him. I am glad
to see you again, Jean. Why did you not take the
candlesticks, too ?

Jean (trembling). Your Reverence —

Bishop. I told you everything in this house was
yours, my brother.

Officer. Ah, then what he said was true. But, of
course, we did not believe him. We saw him creeping
from your garden —

Bishop. It is all right, I assure you. This man
is a friend of mine.

Officer. Then we can let him go ?

Bishop. Certainly.

\_Soldiers step back.l

Jean {trembling). I am free ?

Officer. Yes ! You can go. Do you not under-
stand ?

\_Steps back.']

Bishop (to Jean). My friend, before you go
away — here are your candlesticks [going to
the mantel and bringing the candlesticks); take
them.

(Jean takes the candlesticks, seeming not to
know what he is doing.)

By the way, my friend, when you come again you
need not come through the garden. The front door
is closed only with a latch, day or night. ( To the

JEAN VAUEAN 129

Officer and Soldiers.) Gentlemen, you may with-
draw.

\^Exit Officer and Soldiers.l

Jbajt {recoiling and holding out the candle-
sticks). No — no — I — I —

Bishop. Say no more; I understand. You felt that
they were all owing to you from a world that had
used you ill. Keep them, my friend, keep them. I
would I had more to give you. It is small recom-
pense for nineteen years.

[Jean stands bewildered, looking down at the
candlesticks in his hands.)

They will add something to your hundred francs.
But do not forget, never forget, that you have pro-
mised to use the money in becoming an honest man.

Jeas. I — promised — ?

Bishop {not heeding). Jean Valjean, my brother,
you no longer belong to evil, but to good. It is your
soul that I am buying for you : I withdraw it from
thoughts of hatred and revenge — I give it to peace
and hope and God.

[Jean stands as if stunned, staring at the Bishop,
then turns and walks unsteadily from the room.']

ACT II

Father Madeleine.
Javert. Housekeeper to Father

King's Officer. Madeleine.

130 JEAN VAUEAN

A Man. Judge.

Second Man. Prosecuting Attobnet.

Third Man. Prisoner.

A Woman. Brevet.^

Second Woman. Chenil.^

Third Woman. Usher.

Lawyers, Jurors, Clerks, Citizens of Bank,
Townspeople of M .

Scene I

Time : eight years later.

Place : France, town of M- ; courtyard of Father

Madeleine's residence.

\_The door hell rings. The Housekeeper enters
from the house and opens a door in the courtyard
wall, opening on the street. A crowd of Towns-
people pour in, excitedly. '\

A Man. Where is Father Madeleine ?

A Woman. Is he here — at home ?

Housekeeper. Yes. What do you want of him?
What has happened ?

A Man. An officer has come from the King !

Second Man. He has been inquiring for Father
Madeleine.

Third Man. 'T is said the King has appointed

Father Madeleine Mayor of M . The officer is

on his way here now,

^ breva' 2 she'nel'

JEAN VALJEAN 131

Housekeeper. Well, it is not the first time the
King has sent an officer here.

A Woman. 'T is true — the King wanted to make
Father Madeleine our Mayor last year.

HotrsEKEEPBB. And he refused.

Second Woman. No one else would have done so.

Third Woman. Father Madeleine cares not for
honors, it seems.

A Man. He is a very strange man.

Second Man. Aye, he is strange., Look you how
he refused the Legion of Honor, offered him by his
Majesty himself, because of his wonderful inven-
tions.

Third Man. No one understands him. He is in-
vited everywhere, but he lives here in solitude.

Housekeeper. Solitude ? No. He loves books —
he reads them constantly.

A Woman. 'T is said he has become very rich.

Second Woman. He must be — he is constantly
building larger factories.

Housekeeper. Yes — where any one who is
hungry can find employment and bread.

Third Woman. That is true. Before Father Ma-
deleine came, there was wretchedness everywhere;
now there is no one who has not money enough for
bread.

Housekeeper. Aye ! Whom has he not helped ?
Whom does he not continue to help ? And all he asks
in return is honesty.

132 JEAN VAUEAN

Second Man. That is true, that is true.

HousBKBBPBE. He forever thinks of the good of
you all — he never gives one thought to himself
Where there is trouble, there is Father Madeleine.
He supports the sick, he buries the dead. He is all
gentleness and kindness and love. Is that what makes
him seem strange to you ?

Third Man. Peace, good woman. All here are
Father Madeleine's friends.

Second "Woman. Aye ! We all love him just as
you do. But sometimes we feel that we know too
little about him. Whence came he? What is his
story?

Housekeeper. I know as little as you of that.
One day, eight years ago, he came to this town — a
poor man, in a blouse, and on his back a knapsack.
You remember?

Others. Yes, yes!

Housekeeper. He was industrious, he made in-
ventions, he prospered, — he has showered his mil-
lions on you all. That is all I know about him.

Third Woman. There 's something I have no-
ticed, friends.

Others. What? What?

Third Woman. You remember that the good
Bishop of D died last month ?

Others. Yes.

Third Woman. Since that day Father Madeleine
has been in mourning.

JEAN VALJEAN 133

FiKST Woman. 'Tis true! He must be a relative
of the sainted Bishop.

Housekeeper. No — I thought that myself and
asked him.

First Man. What did he say ?

Housekeeper. Merely that he was a servant in
the Bishop's house once. And now, if the King means
to honor him, 't is well. There 's no honor that could
repay his goodness — to us all, to us all !

[Enter the King's Officer and Javert, a police
inspector.l

Javert. Madame, we seek Father Madeleine.

[^Enter Father Madeleine /rom the house. Me
is Jean Valjean, but is a changed man — is softened
and kindly and nohle.'\

Housekeeper. Here is Father Madeleine.

People [joyfully). Father Madeleine! Father
Madeleine !

Javert [sternly). Silence ! Father Madeleine, the
King's officer, with a message from the King !

[Madeleine hows. The Officer produces a paper
with red seals.^

Officer. Sir, the King sends you for the second

time your appointment to the mayoralty of M .

I await your answer.

Madeleine. I cannot accept.

Officer. His Majesty urges your acceptance, sir.
He has heard of your services to the whole country
round, of your factories that have enriched the

134 JEAN VALJEAN

district, of the schools and hospitals you have estab-
lished, of your charities that are unending-. But
above all, sir, the people clamor for your leadership.

Madeleine. I can be as useful in a private way.

Officer. Sir, the King bade me take no refusal.

A Woman. A good mayor is our greatest need !

People. Aye ! Aye !

Madeleine {to Officer). Sir, it seems to be my
duty — I accept his Majesty's appointment.
[2%e Officer hands Madeleine the paper. ^

Officer. Mayor of M , I salute you !

People. Hurrah ! Mayor Madeleine ! Mayor
Madeleine !

lExit Officer.^

Madeleine. My people, you have long called
me " Father," and it has pleased me that you
let me help you as if you were my children. I am

now Mayor of M , that is true, — but to you let

me be always Father Madeleine.

People {waving hats and hands). Yes, yes!
Father Madeleine — always Father Madeleine !

\_More prominent of the Townspeople crowd
around Father Madeleine, shaking his hand.
Others go, still waving caps, etc. Exit all hut
Javert and Madeleine.'\

Javert. Your Honor, I ask to be dismissed from
the service.

Madeleine. Dismissed from the service ! — But
why, Javert ? You are a famous police inspector.

JEAN VAUEAN 135

Javert. I have made a great mistake — I am no
longer worthy of my post.

Madeleine. Explain yourself, Javert.

J AVERT. Mr. Mayor, I have been suspecting you.

Madeleine. Suspecting me ? Of what ?

Javert. Of being — an ex-convict.

Madeleine. What is that you say ?

Javert. I was, at one time, an inspector among
the galleys. I rarely forget a face or a name. When
I saw you, I was struck by the resemblance.

Madeleine {hesitatingly). Resemblance — to
whom?

Javert. To a certain Jean Valjean.

Madeleine. A certain — what did you say the
name was ?

Javert. Jean Valjean. Upon his release he

robbed the Bishop of D , who, strangely enough,

tried to protect him. Nevertheless, the magistrates
sought for him far and wide, but in vain. That was
eight years ago. For a long time I was certain that
you were that man. In fact, I denounced you yes-
terday at headquarters.

Madeleine. And what reply did you receive ?

Javert. That I was mad.

Madeleine. Well?

Javert. Well, they were right. The real Jean
Valjean has just been found.

Madeleine. Ah !

Javert. They have him in jail now. He is ac-

136 JEAN VAUEAN

cused of stealing apples from an orchard. He had
his pockets full.

Madeleine. A terrible crime!

Javekt. For an ex-convict — yes. I have just seen
him. He is Jean Valjean. I recognized him at once.

Madeleine. Where is he to be tried ?

Javert. They are trying him now. It will mean
the galleys for life this time. You see, Mr. Mayor,
that it is necessary that I should be dismissed. I de-
nounced you as an ex-convict — you, a respectable
man — a magistrate. For such a mistake there is no
excuse. I am not fit to be an officer.

Madeleine. Javert, you are a man of honor. I
wish you to retain your post.

Javert. No — I am not fit. I will serve only till
my place is filled.

[^Bows and goes. Pause.^

Madeleine (sadly). Jean Valjean — unfortunate
name — unfortunate man —

\_£Jnter Housekbepee.]

Housekeeper. The luncheon is served, your
Honor.

Madeleine [rousing himself from his revery).
I cannot stop for luncheon today. I must go to the
Hall of Justice.

Housekeeper. Perhaps you will return soon?

Madeleine. Perhaps.

Housekeeper. The soup is especially good to-
day. Is the case there an important one ?

JEAN VALJEAN 137

Madeleine. Yes — one Jean Valjean — about to
be sent to the galleys — for life.

Housekeeper. Poor fellow !

Madeleine {resolutely). Yes — poor fellow !
(Going.) Poor unhappy fellow !

[Exit Madeleine to streef^

Scene II

Time: A few minutes later.

Place : Hall of Justice; the court room.

[The Judge sits on his bench, Clerks and
Lawyers sit near by. On one side is the Pris-
oner, in a box, guarded by Soldiers. On the
other side is the Jury. Behind the Judge sit a
number of privileged spectators. Citizens of Eank.
The lower end of the room is filled with Towns-
people. The Prisoner is a wretched-looking old
man ; he is confused and frightened.']

Att'y. You have heard the counsel for the defense,
and what has he proved to you ? Nothing ! nothing !

{Enter Madeleine. He seats himself unnoticed
in the rear of the spectators behind the Judge.)

In fact, the advocate seemed to admit that the
prisoner was Jean Valjean — a vagabond and a
criminal — a man whom the galleys did not correct.
In fact, no sooner was he released than he stole from
our sainted Bishop. And now he has committed a

138 JEAN VAUEAN

second crime; was caught with his hand on the
apples. And still the prisoner denies the theft —
denies even his own identity. It is only too evident
that he is Jean Valjean — his very confusion be-
trays him. Gentlemen of the Jury, I shall say no
more. I lay the case before you.
[He sits.']

Judge. The prisoner will stand.

{The Prisoner rises, frightened.)

Have you anything to add to your defense ?

Pkisonbr. I have ' stolen nothing, your Honor !
I was hungry — I do not have something to eat
every day — I found a broken branch with apples, on
the ground — I ate the apples. Who would not ? I
am put in prison for it. You ask me if I was not
born in FaveroUes. I say Yes. Then you call me
Jean Valjean. I don't know that person. You have
me confused — I don't know what to say to you.
Only, I am not Jean Valjean — I tell you that !

Judge. Usher, bring in the witnesses !

UsHBB {opening the door and calling). Brevet !

\_A Soldier brings in the convict Beevet.J

Judge. Brevet, you are a convict — you cannot
take the oath. Still, I trust to your honor to tell the
exact truth. A word from you may ruin this man.
Brevet, do you recognize this person as your former
companion in the galleys, Jean Valjean ?

Brevet. Yes, your Honor, that man is Jean Val-
jean. I was in the galleys when he came. I left a

JEAN VALJEAN 139

year later. You see how brutal he looks — yes, I
recognize him positively.

Judge. Sit down. Prisoner, remain standing.
The next witness !

(Chenil is brought in.)

Witness, you are a convict, and therefore cannot
take the oath. But there must be in you some feel-
ing of justice. The instant is a solemn one. Re-
flect — do you recognize this prisoner ?

Chenil. I knew him at once ! We were attached
to the same chain for five years. {To Prisoner.) So
you are sulking, are you, old boy ?

Judge. That will do. Sit down. (To Usher.) Ad-
mit Officer Javert.

(J avert is admitted.)

Officer Javert, you will please to take the oath.

( The Judge and Javert each holds up his right
hand for a moment.)

Officer, you formerly served the state as Inspector
of the Galleys, did you not ?

Javert. I did, your Honor.

Judge. Did you know the convict Jean Valjean?

Javert. I did, your Honor.

Judge. Is this the man?

Javert. Yes, your Honor.

Judge. You are certain ?

Javert. I am positive that he is Jean Valjean.

Judge. Prisoner, you have heard. What have you
to say ?

140 JEAN VAUEAN

Peisoneb (confused). What do I say ? I say no-
thing — nothing —

Judge. Prisoner, hear your sentence.

Madeleine. {He has risen and stepped down into
the center of the hall before the judges.) Javert,
Brevet, Chenil, look this way. (Murmurs of recog-
nition in the crowd.) Do you not recognize me?
Gentlemen of the Jury, release the prisoner. Your
Honor, order my arrest ! I am Jean Valjean !
l^All show astonishment. Silence. Pause."]

Judge (gently). Is there a physician present? If
so, will he please attend our beloved and honored
Mayor to his home?

Madeleine. I thank your Honor, but I am not
mad. I am fulfilling a duty. Eelease that man ! I am
Jean Valjean. I concealed myself under the name
of Madeleine. I have tried to re-enter the ranks of
the honest. It seems that this cannot be. It is true
that I was a convict. It is true that I robbed the

Bishop of D . It is true that Jean Valjean was

a vicious wretch. Perhaps it was not altogether his
fault. Thegalleys make the galley-slave. Listen, your
Honor ! I was a poor peasant — I was stupid — the
galleys made me vicious — severity ruined me. Later,
kindness saved me — took the hatred out of my heart.
I have nothing more to say. Take me.

Judge. The Mayor is mad !

Att'y. Yes, yes — he has gone mad !

Madeleine. You do not believe me ! Do not con-

JEAN VALJEAN 141

demn that man, at least. Brevet, Chenil, do you not
^^snow me ? I recognize you well. Brevet, do you not
remember those checkered knit suspenders that you
wore in the galleys ?

{Brevet starts.)

Chenil, you have, near the bend in your left arm,
a date in blue letters — March 1st, 1815. Pull up
your sleeve !

\_Chenil pulls up his sleeve. The Attorney looks
at his arm.'}

Att'y. It is there.

Madeleine. You see plainly that I am Jean Valjean.
[^Pause.l

Judge. The prisoner is released.

[TAe Prisoner creeps from his box ; falls on
Ms knees before Jean Valjean and kisses his coat;
arises and leaves the courtroom, sobbing.]

Madeleine. Mr. Attorney, I remain at your dis-
posal.

{Pause. No one stirs. The Judge wipes the tears
from his eyes.)

You do not arrest me? Then I shall withdraw.
When I am needed, you know where to find me.
{Starts to go, then pauses.) You all — all who
are here, you are pitying me, are you not? But no!
no ! when I think what might hare happened here,
I count myself worthy of your envy !

[Jle crosses slowly. The door is opened for
him. He goes out, with head erect.]

THE BLACK PEARL

Time : an autumn evening.

Place : Amsterdam, Holland; living room in the
house of Balthazar Van der Lys.

Balthazar Van der Lts,^ a Fashionable Young Hol-
lander.
Cornelius Pump, a Learned Scientist of Amsterdam.
Christina, Serving Maid to Van der Lys.
GuDTJLE,^ Cook to Van der Lys.
Teicamp,^ Sergeant of Police.
Petersen, a Poor Man.
A Baker. Second Officer.

First Officer. Third Officer.

[Balthazar Van der Lys sits dozing hy an open
fire; his newspaper has fallen to thefioor. Through
an open window at hack is heard the rising wind.
Pause. There is a bright flash of lightning, then
loud thunder. Enter Christina. She is young,
pretty, and very small ; is much excited.'\

Christina. Mijnheer ! Mijnheer! ^
Balthazar {waking). Yes — yes — what?
Christina. There is a fearful storm coming up !
Shall I not close the window ?

* bal tha' zer van' der les'. "^ gob' dob le. ' tre kamp'.

* miu her' : the Dutch -word of address for Mr., Sir, Master.

THE BLACK PEARL 143

{^Lightning and thunder, followed by heavy rain.
Christina crosses to close windoiv.']

Balthazar {rubbing his eyes). Why, bless me —
it is coming down rather lively !

l^Christitia, closing the window, starts, peers out
again, and turns quickly to Balthazar. 1

Christina. Mijnheer, there is your friend !

Balthazar. Who?

Christina. Mijnheer Cornelius Pump.

Balthazar. Is he coming in ?

Christina. No, Mijnheer — he is just standing
there by the canal, in the rain.

[Balthazar crosses to window and looks out.)

Has he lost his mind ?

Balthazar. Oh, no, Christina ! Cornelius Pump
is a great scientist, the most learned man of Amster-
dam.

Christina. Then why does he stand in the pour-
ing rain ? He '11 be drenched — he '11 catch cold —
he 'U have a fever — he '11 die !

Balthazar. That is all true, Christina. I '11 ask
him in.

(ITe calls from window.)

Cornelius ! Cornelius ! Come in !

Christina. He shakes his head !

Balthazar (calling). Oh, but you must come
in ! You '11 get wet !

Christina. He laughs at you ! He 's quite crazy,
Mijnheer !

144 THE BLACK PEARL

Balthazar. No, not that; but he is peculiar. All
learned men are, Christina.

Christina. That is my opinion, too.

Balthazar. Well, I shall save him, -whether he
will or no. I shall creep up behind him and push
him in — eh, Christina ?

Christina. That is fine, Mijnheer ! Here is your
umbrella — I will' hold the door open.

{Balthazar dashes out. Christina holds door
open, watching ; she laughs.)

He has done it !

\_JEnter Cornelius Vvmp, pushed in by Baltha-
zar. Cornelius is a fine looking young man. He
wears an oilskin coat ; his hat is dripping water.
He is holding to a string with both hands."]

Cornelius. Don't close the door ^I beg you !
You will cut my string I

Others. String !

Cornelius. The string of my kite —

Others. Kite !

Cornelius. It is flying above the canal — I was
just winding up the string when you attacked me
from behind, Balthazar.

\He winds string^

Balthazar. The storm was so severe —

Cornelius. I understand. ( To Christina.) Open
the door just a little wider, please ; the kite will soon
arrive.

Balthazar. It is struggling fiercely against you.

'AND I HAVE SUCCEEDED! I HAVE SUCCEEDED, I TELL TOUI'

146 THE BLACK PEARL

Cornelius. The wind is very strong.

[He pulls at the string with all his might. Soon
the kite is seen. It is very large and has a long
tail, which is decorated with innumerable pieces
of paper. 1

Cheistina. Your pardon, Mijnheer, but do you
fly it for fun ?

CoRNELiTJS. Ah, no, Christina ; I wished to verify
the presence of nitric acid in those clouds while they
were charged with electricity.

[^e looks steadily at the hits of paper, as the
kite comes nearer.]

And I have succeeded ! I have succeeded, I tell
you ! Look !

[5e points proudly to the kite, which he now
with great effort pulls down. Christina closes the
door.]

Balthazar. But what shall I look at?

Cornelius. Do you see these bits of paper ? They
have been burned a dark red. I have made a wonder-
ful discovery, Balthazar, a wonderful discovery!

Balthazar (yawning). Indeed !

Cornelius. I have found that the lightning we
have had today is not an optical illusion ; it is a
spherical body — • a rebounding, rolling, spherical
body !

Balthazar. Well, suppose it is — what is so in-
teresting about that? And besides, look how wet
you are !

THE BLACK PEARL 147

Chkistina, Let me have your hat, Mijnheer, and
your coat, please. I '11 dry them for you.

Cornelius. Oh, that is not necessary.
[^Christina draws an easy chair to the fire.]

Cheistina. Will not Mijnheer sit by the fire a
moment? A cold is very dangerous this time of the
year.

Cornelius. I 'm not afraid.

Balthazar. Christina is right, Cornelius.

Christina. Mijnheer was very ill last winter, after
wading in the icy streams that day.

Cornelius. But I was studying fishes, you
know.

Balthazar. You were ill none the less.

Christina. And then Mijnheer had a sunstroke
just this summer.

Cornelius. I remember — I was out in the fields
studying butterflies.

Balthazar. And just at present you are dripping
wet. Come —

[-ffe takes Cornelius's hat and coat and gives
them to Christina.]

Christina. I '11 leave them in the hall, Mijnheer.
[Exit. Balthazar leads Cornelius to fire.]

Balthazar. You should take better care of your-
self, my friend.

Cornelius. Science demands sacrifice.

Balthazar. Then why follow it? What good
does it do you? You get a lot of information, of

148 THE BLACK PEABL

course, but has it ever been of any practical value to
you?

Cornelius. No — I can't say that it has. But the
occasion may arise when my knowledge will be use-
ful.

Balthazar. Oh — perhaps, in a thousand years.
So why go on risking your health ? Why not take
up something more comfortable ? Become an artist
or an author or —

Cornelius. Or a collector of jewels like Balthazar
Van der Lys. No, my friend, I love the study of sci-
ence. It gives me as much happiness as your splen-
did jewels give you.

Balthazar. I suppose we must all have our fads.
By the way, I was very lucky today : I discovered
a beautiful medallion — gold, surrounded by black
pearls. I have never seen such pearls — they are per-
fect. There is not a speck of white on any one of
them.

Cornelius. So you bought the locket ?

Balthazar. Of course.

Cornelius. You are extravagant, my friend.

Balthazar. Perhaps ; but jewels are my delight.

Cornelius. But you are spending all your for-
tune on them.

Balthazar. It is not a bad way to invest.

Cornelius. Yes, if they are not stolen.

Balthazar. Oh, thereis no danger of that ! They
are safely locked in my desk. Anyway, there was no

THE BLACK PEARL 149

resisting the medallion. You must see it, Cornelius
— I '11 get it.

{Re takes a hunch of keys from his pocket, lifts
the lamp and crosses to the door of his study at
back; unlocks door ; starts in; stops, and cries out
sharply.)

Cornelius ! Come |

Cornelius (crossing). What is it ? What is wrong?

Balthazar. I am ruined ! Look !
' [Re places the lamp on a table, thus lighting
up interior of study. The floor is strewn with doc-
uments. Balthazar rushes to his desk, which is
open.)

The lock has been forced ! The top has been
hacked to pieces ! Look at these nails and screws and
hinges !

Cornelius. They are twisted out of shape.

Balthazar (searching through desk). Every
jewel is gone ! And my money and gold and silver I

Cornelius. Let me look —

(Searches through desk.)

I do not find them.

Balthazar. They have been stolen ! I am ruined,
Cornelius ! I am ruined !

Cornelius. When did you put the medallion in
your desk?

Balthazar. Let me see — I showed it to Christina
when I came in. It was just before supper — not
more than an hour ago.

150 THE BLACK PEARL

CoRNBLiTTS. Then the robbery has been committed
within the hour. That gives you a chance —

Balthazak. Yes ! There is a police station just
down the street !

\^He rushes to door, opens it, and looks out.']

Cornelius {pushing him aside). You wait here.
I '11 call an officer.

\_Rushes out.]

Balthazar {going hack and forth between the
outer door and the door of the study). Ruined!
Ruined ! Half a fortune — Cornelius was right !
\_Enter Cornelius /rom street.]

Cornelius (breathlessly). They are coming —
coming now !

[^Enter Tricamp, the Sergeant, followed by three
Police Officers. Tricamp is short and heavy, but
very active. He is near-sighted : looks at everything
at close range.]

Tricamp (softly). What is it ? What is it,
Mijnheer ?

\_Balthazar drags Tricamp to study and points to
papers and desk.]

Balthazar. There! and there 1 You see, Sergeant,
what has happened !

Tricamp. Perfectly ! It is superb ! They took all
your money, I suppose ?

Balthazar. All that was in the desk.

Tricamp. Good !

Balthazar, And my jewels — diamonds, rubies,

THE BLACK PEARL 151

pearls — in fact I had a large number of precious
stones.

Tricamp. Bravo ! and you suspect no one ?

Balthazak. No one, Mijnheer.

Tkicamp {to Officers). Guard the house outside.
See that no one enters or leaves.
{Exit Officers.)

Let us now examine the door.

{He turns Tcey in study door.)

The lock has not been tampered with. There is no
window in this room, and no other door. Ah — the
fireplace —

[Grosses to fireplace in study and examines it
carefully.)

Only a small opening here.

Balthazar. Only room enough for a small stove-
pipe.

Tricamp. H'm! H'm!

{Looks about room ; starts.)

Aha ! What is that knife doing there ?

{Points to a large knife in wainscoting, about
three feet above desk.)

Is it yours, Mijnheer ?

Balthazar. Yes, it was a gift ; it was in the desk
with the jewels.

Tricamp. They have broken the wire from
the door bell and have twisted it about the
knife !

{He jumps upon a chair and examines wall.)

152 THE BLACK PEARL

Aha ! Look ! A large piece of wall paper has been
cut out, together with the wood and plastering. Do
you see?

Others. Yes, yes !

Tbicamp. It has been replaced with the greatest
care and cunning.

Cornelius. Can the thief have entered through
that opening?

Tricamp (descending). Most assuredly. The thief
entered from the adjoining room, dropped quietly to
the floor, forced your desk, took your jewels, and
then planted your knife in the wall to assist himself
in his ascent. The wire was used as a rope to guide
him —

Balthazar (interrupting). But I want to know
where the thief is.

Tricamp. Have patience, Mijnheer. We must
now assure ourselves as to his temperament.

Balthazar. Nonsense ! We have n't time —

Tricamp. We must take time It is necessary to
study the nature of the game in order to run it down.
Now, all robberies differ more or less.

Cornelius. Wonderful !

Tricamp. For instance, two servant girls were
accused of stealing their mistress's shawl. I discov-
ered the criminal at the first glance. The thief had
the choice of two cashmeres — one blue, the other
white. One servant was a blonde ; the other had red
hair. The blue shawl was stolen. So the blonde was

THE BLACK PEARL 153

guilty — the girl with the red hair would never have
taken a blue shawl.

Cornelius. Wonderful!

Balthazar. Then tell me the name of the
thief —

Tkicamp. Patience, Mijnheer, patience ! I will
tell you this, however, — it is the work of a i^ovice.
A skilled thief would never have left your room in
such disorder.

Balthazar. And while you talk, the thief is get-
ging a good start.

Tricamp, Patience, Mijnheer ! I will tell you this,
too, — the criminal is neither very strong nor very
tall, otherwise he could have drawn himself up with-
out the aid of that knife and bit of wire.

Cornelius. But it must have required strength
to force open that desk.

Tricamp. Not at all. A child or a delicate
woman —

Balthazar. A woman !

Tricamp. Since I first entered this room, such
has been my impression.

{Balthazar and Cornelius look at each other
amazed. Tricamp continues.)

Now, then, to sum up : It is a young woman — she
must be young, or she would not climb so well. She
is small, since she needed a wire to pull herself up
with. Then again, she is familiar with your habits ;
for she went directly to the desk in which you kept

164 THE BLACK PEARL

your jewels — she did not bother her head about
other desks. In a word, if you have a young house-
keeper or maid, you need look no further, for she is
the guilty one.

Others. Christina!

Tkicamp. Ah ! Well, then, Christina is guilty.

Balthazar. It is impossible ! Christina is good
and kind. She has been in my family for years ; in
fact, my mother brought her up.

Tkicamp. Ah ! then you must know her origin.

Balthazar {shortly). Yes.

Tricamp. I must oblige you to speak frankly,
Mijnheer.

Balthazar. Her parents were Bohemians, stroll-
ing mountebanks. The father was killed. The
mother died in want and misery. An aunt took the
little Christina and beat her when she would not
steal.

Tricamp. When she would not steal! Ah!
Then she did steal !

Balthazar. I believe so — they made her. But
now, Christina is above suspicion. I have absolute
confidence in her.

Cornelius. It is not Christina — it cannot be. '

Tricamp. Will you send for this person ?

Balthazar. It is not Christina, I tell you !

Tricamp (sternly). Where is her room, Mijn-
heer?

(Balthazar hesitates, then points to room ad-

THE BLACK PEARL 155

joining the study. Tricamp takes lamp, crosses,
and opens door. He turns.)

The room is empty.

[The others cross and look into room.)

You see — she has not even slept on the bed to-
night. She has escaped !

\_The street door is flung open, and two Officers
enter, pushing Christina before them."]

Christina {to Officers). What does this mean?
{To Balthazar.) Tell them who I am, Mijnheer.

Balthazar. Where have you been?

Christina. I have been upstairs with the cook ;
she is so afraid of lightning, you know.

Balthazar. It is true.

Tricamp. But the storm has ceased.

Christina. Only a few moments ago. Then I
came downstairs. I was going to my room when it
occurred to me that the back door might not be
bolted.

Tricamp. And then what ?

Christina. I found the door locked, but I opened
it to look out — to see if the storm had truly ceased.
At that moment these officers appeared and informed
me I was under arrest.

First Officer. The g^rl was going out, Sergeant.

Tricamp. I thought as much. {To Christina.]
Now, it is evident that you did not go to bed because
you were waiting to make your escape.

Christina. Escape? What escape?

156 THE BLACK PEARL

Tricamp. What nerve ! What deceit !

Christina ( to Balthazar). What does this mean,
Mijiiheer?

Balthazar. Come here, and I will show you what
it means.

( He leads Christina to study. She stops on thresh-
old in amazement.)

My jewels have been stolen.

Christina. Who could have done this ?

Tricamp. You.

Christina. I?

Tricamp. You ! Where are the jewels ? Speak !

Christina. And you say I have done this? You
accuse me?

{She looks at Balthazar, who lowers his eyes.
Christina reels ; she 'holds to the sofa for support,
murmuring — )

A thief ! They say I am a thief !

\_She falls upon the sofa and sohs.\

Cornelius. No, no, Christina ! It is impossible !
You are innocent !

\_Enter Third Officer with Baker.]

Third Officer. Sergeant, I have obtained some
information regarding this girl.

Tricamp. Speak.

Third Officer. This man keeps the bakeshop
across the street. He says he has something to tell
you.

Tricamp {to Baker). Speak.

THE BLACK PEARL 157

Baeeb. Mijnheer, just a little while before the
storm, I saw Christina at the kitchen window. She
seemed to be waiting for some one.

Tricamp. So you watched her —

Baker. Yes, Sergeant. I thought there was some
mischief afoot. And I was not mistaken, sir j for pre-
sently there came a man — a large man in a long
coat and a slouch hat —

Tbicamp. a slouch hat, eh ? Good ! Go on !

Baker. Then I saw Christina slip a package
out —

Tricamp. A package, eh? Excellent! Go on!

Christina. I can explain —

Tricamp. No ! Baker, continue —

Baker. The man took the package and went away
quickly ; that is all, Mijnheer.

Christina. Let me explain —

Tricamp. No — no ! {To Officers.) Find this man
— bring him here. Take this baker with you.

[Exit Officers with Baker. Tricamp turns to
Balthazar.)

I must now see your cook, Mijnheer.

Balthazar. I will tell her to come.
lExit.']

Christina. Let me explain, Mijnheer ! I pray you,
let me explain !

Tricamp. In good time — all in good time.

\_Enter Balthazar with Gudule, the cook, an
old woman, now excited and nervous. ]

158 THE BLACK PEARL

GuDULE. You have been robbed, master? You
say you have been robbed ?

BALTtiAZAB.( kindly). Don't be alarmed, Gudule;
you have nothing to do with it.

Tbicamp {to Ghidule). No, you have nothing to
do with it, but I must ask you some questions.

Gudule. Eh?

Balthazar. She is deaf.

Tricamp ( raising voice ). Did you go out of the
house this evening?

Gudule. No, Mijnheer. I was in the kitchen,
knitting — till I went upstairs to bed.

Tricamp. Who called here today ?

Gudule. Oh, there was the postman, and a neigh-
bor who called to borrow a plate, and Petersen, who
came to ask something of Christina.

Tricamp. Indeed ! And who is this Petersen?

Gudule. A neighbor, Mijnheer. My master knows
him well.

Balthazar. Yes, Sergeant, I know him. He lost,
his wife a month ago, and his two little children are
both sick. He is very poor.

Tricamp. Poor, eh? Ah! So he came in to see
Christina ?

Christina. No!

Tricamp. Silence!

Gudule. Petersen only spoke to Christina from
the sidewalk.

Tricamp. What did he tell her?

THE BLACK PEARL 159

GuDULB. I did not hear.

Tricamp. Was Christina in the kitchen all the
time?

GuDULE. Until she went to dress for supper.

Tricamp. What did she talk about?

GuDTJLB. About the master's extravagance, Mijn-
heer, begging my master's pardon.

Tricamp. So, so ! What did she say ?

GuDULE. Why, that the master had a fortune in
jewels. But she said she could n't really blame him,
because she loved them herself.

Tricamp. Indeed ! Go on —

GuDULE. And then she spoke of the locket the
master had just bought. She would give anything,
she said, just to own one of those black pearls.

Tricamp. A-ha ! Go on — go on — What else
did she say about the pearls ?

GuDULE. Nothing, except that they were n't safe
in the master's desk.

Tricamp. Excellent ! You said Christina left the
kitchen to dress for supper ?

GuDULE. Yes, Mijnheer.

Tricamp. How long was she gone ?

GxJDULE. About an hour, Mijnheer.

Tricamp. An hour ?

GuDULB. Fully that.

Tricamp. Did you hear any noise during that
time — any hammering or pounding?

GuDULE. No, Mijnheer.

160 THE BLACK PEARL

Tbicamp (to Balthazar). She is as deaf as a door-
post.

Gtjdulb. And then the storm began, and Chris-
tina came in. She was as white as a ghost, and was
trembling all over.

Tricamp. Trembling, eh? Well, gentlemen, you
can draw your own conclusions. I shall search the
girl's room.

[He goes to Christina's room.']

Chkistina. I teU you I am innocent !

GuDULE. What ! Do they accuse you, Christina?

Chkistina. Yes, Gudule.

GuDULB. They shan't touch a hair of your head !
She is an angel of kindness and goodness, master !
Let them blame me ! That poor child is innocent.
[Enter Tricamp.J

Balthazar. Sergeant, you have reasoned out
Christina's guilt with remarkable skill ; but, after all,
what proof is there ?

Tricamp. This — a black pearl !

[He holds up a black pearl.]

Balthazar. Where did you find it?

Tricamp. On Christina's bureau.

Christina. No — no — it is not true — it is not
true, master !

Tricamp. Come, my child, confess the truth.
Confession is good for the soul. You wanted finery,
didn't you? You wanted to make yourself look
pretty, did n't you ?

THE BLACK PEARL 161

Christina. You torture me ! [To Balthazar.)
Mijnheer, let me go away ! Let me go — let me go !

Teicamp. You cannot leave this room.

Balthazar. Tell the truth, Christina. I promise
no harm shall ever come to you. I will forgive you,
and no one shall ever know of this. Don't you hear
me, child ?

Christina. Yes — yes — I hear! Oh, how can
you believe me a thief ? How can you ? How can
you?

\_She weeps bitterly i Enter Officers with Peter-
sen, a large man in a long coat and slouch hat. He
carries a bundle.']

First Officer. We caught him, sir. The storm
prevented his getting away.

Second Officer. He has the bundle. Sergeant.

Third Officer. He admits the girl gave it to
him.

Tricamp. Your name, my man !

Petersen [stoutly). Petersen.

Tricamp. Who gave you that bundle ?

Petersen. Christina.

Tricamp. A-ha! When did she give you that
bundle?

Petersen. Just before the storm.

Tricamp. How did she give you that bundle ?

Petersen. She passed it out from the window.

Tricamp. A-ha !• Now why did she give you that
bundle ?

162 THE BLACK PEARL

Peteksen. Because she 's kind-hearted and good.

Tricamp. Petersen, you are an accomplice in this
robbery. Don't deny it !

Christina (storfeng' tip). No — no! Petersen is
innocent.

Tricamp. Petersen, you are under arrest. Give
me that bundle. {To Christina.) You were clever
to make the package large.

{He takes bundle and hands it to Balthazar.)

Mijnheer, here are your stolen jewels.

Petersen. Jewels ! No — no —

\_Balthazar opens bundle and takes out two old
dresses.]

Christina. There ! Only my old dresses !

Petersen. Christina sent them to my children.
She often helps us.

Balthazar. That is true. Sergeant.

Tricamp. Oh, very well. But here is your pearl.

[i/e holds it out at arm's length. The pearl is
thus brought close to Cornelius, who looks at it,
starts, seizes Tricamp' s hand.]

Cornelius. Let me see it !

[He takes the pearl and looks at it steadily for
a long time.]

Balthazar. What is It ? What do you see?

[He approaches Cornelius, who pushes him
aside.]

Cornelius. Out of my way !

[He rushes to the window, which he examines

THE BLACK PEARL 163

carefully ; rushes to fireplace in study ; looks up
chimney. Tricamp approaches him.']

Tricamp. What is it? What is it, Mijnheer?

CoENELius {pushing him aside). Out of my -way !

[He examines the desk, the knife, the wire and
the 'bell.']

Tricamp {to Officers). He is mad.

Cornelius {coming from study). Christina, you
are innocent ! I now have proof.

Tricamp {to Officers). The man is mad !

Cornelius. I know the name of the thief. I will
tell you how he came in and how he went out.

Christina. Heaven bless you, Mijnheer !

Tricamp. Not yet. Wait till he proves it.

Cornelius. The thief did not come in by that
opening in the wall. He simply glided down the
chimney and by way of the fireplace reached your
study.

Balthazar. Chimney — fireplace — ?

Cornelius. Precisely. Then he forced the iron
lock of your desk; and, gathering together your
florins, your ducats, and your jewels, he carried
them off, leaving your knife in the wall as a me-
mento of his little visit.

Tricamp {sarcastically). Oh, excellent ! But —

Cornelius {continuing). Then, from the study
he jumped into the room of poor Christina, dash-
ing through the woodwork and paper in his mad
flight.

164 THE BLACK PEARL

Tkicamp. But the pearl on her bureau — the
pearl !

Cornelius. He dropped it ou Christina's bureau
as he passed through.

Teicamp. Dropped it?

Cornelius. Dropped it. And this is what he did
with your jewels, your silver and gold, and your
ducats — he hid, them in that bell there. It has
been turned up, you see.

( Tricamp runs to study ; gets hell.)

And now, if you want to know how he went out,
— look!

[He drags Balthazar to the window.)

Look at that top pane. Do you see that hole ?

Balthazar. Cornelius, are you crazy ? That hole
is about the size of a cent.

Cornelius. Exactly — exactly.

Balthazar. Cornelius, what does this mean ?

Cornelius. It means that your house has been
struck by lightning !

Others. Lightning !

Cornelius. Lightning.

Tricamp {coming down with hell). This bell is
filled with a melted mass of gold, silver, and jewels.
\_Pause. All examine the hell.']

I am compelled to believe you, Mijnheer. But
what put you on the track ?

Cornelius. This black pearl. When you held it
out, I noticed a little white speck on it. Balthazar

THE BLACK PEARL 163

had told me that the pearls were perfect, so I at
once guessed that the white spot had been made by
: electricity. The rest was only a natural deduction.

Balthazar. Christina, come, give nje your hand.
Tell me you forgive me.

Tkicamp. And I too crave your forgiveness,
Christina — and yours, too, Petersen.

[Petersen bows. Christina rises, smiling.'\

Christina. Of course I forgive you — every one !
Whoever would have thought of lightning ?

Balthazar. No one but Cornelius Pump.

Tkicamp. Officers, salute the savant ! '

Officers (saluting). Cornelius Pump, savant I

^ sa vaN', wise man, philosopher.

IVANHOE

Wilfred of Ivanhoe.

The Black Knight (Richard, King of England).,
Grand Master of the Templars.
Front-de-B(euf,i n

Brian de Bois-Guilbert,^ \ Knights-Templars.
Malyoisin,^ )

^^iR Waldemar Fitzurse,^
Sir Maurice de Bract,^
Chief Yeoman.^ -r

Norman Nobles.

First_ChusiJ.
, Second Churl.
Third Churl.
Fourth Churl.
Rebecca.

^SAAC.

Ulrica.
First Herald.

Second Herald.
First Knight.

First Yeoman.
Second Yeoman.
Guard of the Templars,

HlGG.rffi'

Woodman.

Trumpeter.

Knights, Templars, Men-at-Arms, Churls,
Yeomen, Peasants.

ACT I

Time : an afternoon near the close of the 12th century,
when Richard the Lion-hearted loas King of England. .
Place: England; a forest.

1 froN' dfi buf. 2 bre aif' de bwa' gel bar'.

= mal' vwa zaN'. * wSl' de mar fitz urs'. * mo res' de bra'si.
' Yo' man : a gentleman attendant in a nobleman's household; or
an independent man, of rank between esquire and churl.
'' churl : a freeman of the lowest rank.

IVANHOE 167

[jEnfer four Saxon Churls armed with great
bows and arrows."]

First Churl. Come, let 's rest here a moment.

Second Churl. The Jew comes close behind.

Third Churl. We may stop until he joins us.
\^They throw themselves down lazily. 1

Fourth Churl. I like not the haste with which
this Isaac travels.

First Churl. Nor I ! I thought to gain some-
thing when I hired to him for this journey from
Ashby to York. 'T is said that he is very rich — 't is
said his robe is lined with gold.

Second Churl. 'Tis said Prince John himself
borrows from him.

Third Churl. This do I know — there was scarce
a knight in yesterday's tournament who was not ac-
coutred' by Isaac.

Fourth Churl. To be sure — that was his busi-
ness at Ashby. And he has gained much wealth by
it. So let us draw the journey out as long as we may.

Third Churl. Each day will mean more coin to
us.

Others. Aye, so it will.

Fourth Churl. And so we talk ; but here we are,
; making forced marches.

First Churl. With only a short rest now and then.

' a kob' terd ; equipped for military service — that is, furnished
with armor and weapons. The Jews of Englaud were generally
wealthy and, though persecuted, were much sought as money-lenders.
They charged a high rate of interest.

168 IVANHOE

Sbcoitd Churl. And no time at all for napping.

Third Churl. We 'd scarce have chance for this
little talk, were not his daughter with him.

Fourth Churl. And the wounded knight, too,
keeps them back, for which I am truly thankful.

First Churl {looking off). Hush ! They come !

\_They arise hastily. Enter Isaac and Rebecca.
Enter two Churls carrying a litter. Isaac is an
old man, tall and thin. Rebecca is young and beau-
tiful. Both wear yellow turbans. The litter is
closed.']

Isaac (displeased). Why do you halt here ? Have
I not hired you to go before, the better to guard us
from robbers ?

First Churl. We thought but to rest a moment,
sir.

Isaac. Go on and see if the path be clear ! Look
sharp in the bushes for hidden spears ! Be quick !
Be quick !

(The Churls go, hastily.)

I like not to be delayed thus.

Rebecca. It comes not amiss to me, father.

Isaac. Art thou tired, Rebecca ?

Rebecca. No, father, but I fear the wounded
knight may suffer from the rapid pace we take.

Isaac. He rests well; thou hast given him herbs;
they are healing his wound. We will push on quickly.

Rebecca. But the knight is still very weak — he
lies in the litter unconscious.

IVANHOE 169

Isaac. I would not overtax him, but still we must
hasten, Rebecca. The Jew is the prey alike of Saxon
churl and Norman knight. They would rob me upon
the king's highway, and there is no hand to restrain
them.

Rebecca. 'T will be different when King Richard
returns : he will protect our race.

Isaac. But he does not return — he still fights
the heathen in Palestine. No, there is no law nor
order in England now. We have need to fear, my
daughter.

Rebecca. But if this knight die in our custody,
we have then, also, much to fear. He is a Christian,
remember !

Isaac. I know — his nation would hold us guilty
of his blood, and the multitude would tear us to
pieces. We should have left the knight at Ashby.

Rebecca. Not left him wounded in the lists ! —
There seemed no one to care for him. What other
can we do than take him with us ? In our house at
York he can rest till his strength returns.

Isaac. We cannot see him perish. The young
knight's father was kind to me once, when I knocked
at his door for shelter. Dost thou not remember how
Cedric the Saxon allowed me to enter his banquet
hall and bade me sit at his table ?

Rebecca. I remember. 'Twas a kindness that
went to my heart ; the act took courage.

Isaac. Aye, for his guests turned on me with

170 IVANHOE

gibes ; treated me as a creature apart — a thing to be
scorned and hated.

Rebecca. I cannot bear to have thee treated so.

Isaac. 'T is the feeling of every man in England
'— this hatred of the Jew, — of every man save here
and there one like Cedric.

Rebecca. This young knight seems not to despise
us, father.

Isaac. No, nor do any, in sooth, when they are
wounded or sick. Then they seek us out — show
us respect.

Rebecca. They have no physicians who can cure
as can those of our own race.

Isaac. And thou, my Rebecca, knowest the craft
of herbs better than any Christian doctor. 'Tis in-
deed fortunate for this knight that he has fallen
into our hands.

[ Enter the Churls, running.']

Churls. Robbers ! Robbers !

First Churl. Save yourselves as best you can !
We will run to cover !

Isaac. Stay! Stay! I'll give you each a bag of
gold !

Second Churl. 'T would only be got by the out-
laws ! Come, come ! To cover — to cover !

\_The tioo Churls go, running. The other Churls
put down the litter.']

Rebecca. Do not leave a wounded man ! Stay —
stay — I pray you !

"DO NOT LEAVE A WOUNDED MAN ! STAY — STAT — I PRAY YOU 1

172 IVANHOE

Isaac. We will find some place where we may
hide ! Lift up the litter, my men ! I promise you both
great riches !

\_The Churls take up the litter and go hastily
with Isaac and Eebeeca. Pause. Enter the Nor-
man knights Peont-de-B(euf, Fitzurse, De Bracy,
and Sir Brian de Bois-Guilbert. Miter some
twenty Yeomen, armed with spears.'\

De BcEUF. Thou sayst the churls ran this way,
De Bracy?

De Bracy. Aiye ! There were four of them — all
Saxons.

Fitzurse. They must have been Cedric's vassals.

De Bceuf. My spies say that Cedric and his
party have entered the wood on their return from
Ashby.

Sib Brian. Then we are hot upon the chase.
\_Enter a Woodman.]

De Bceuf. Woodman, halt ! Tell us if thou hast
seen a party of travelers in this wood.

Woodman. Good knight, I have.

De Bracy. Did the party include an old man
and a woman within a litter ?

Woodman. Good knight, it did. Only the wo-
man walked, and two churls carried the litter.

De Bceuf. 'T is Cedric ! ( Throwing a coin.) Here,
woodman ! Now tell us which way the travelers wenj;.

Woodman. To the south, good knights, fleeing\
like frightened rabbits.

IVANHOE 173

De B(euf. After them, yeomen ! Quick ! Quick !
[^Exit Yeomen, running. Exit Woodman.']

Sir Brian. Our plan seems to work ! 'T would
please Prince John mightily, could we make this Ced-
ric a prisoner.

Db Bracy. Aye, but 't will rouse all the Saxons
against us.

FrrzuRSB. What cares a Norman for Saxons ? We
are their conquerors, and our Prince himself dislikes
them.

Db Bceuf. Because they support King Richard.
Saw you the Prince' s rage yester night when Cedric
drank to Richard at the banquet ? •

FiTZURSE. Aye ! 'Twas a bold thing to do ! Ced-
ric knows full well that John plans to make himself
king during his brother's absence in Palestine.

Sir Brian. He plans, but has he the courage to do
it? He is both fickle and timid.

De Bceuf. And therefore we can rise and thrive
by him, as we could not by Richard.

Others. Aye, that we can !

De Bract. We should imprison all Saxon nobles
who are faithful to King Richard. Then, when Rich-
ard does return, he will call in vain for his followers.

FiTZURSB. 'T would be to our advantage. Kind
fate has thrown Cedric into oiir hands, at least.

Sir Brian. I would his son Ivanhoe were with
him. He would be a prisoner worth our pains.

Db Braoy. He may be — he was wounded in the

174 IVANHOE

lists at Ashby; 'tis likely Cedric will be taking him
home.

Db Bcbuf. 'T would be a rare capture. He is
King Richard's faithful follower and knight.

De Bracy. And therefore, our enemy.

Others. Aye !

[^Unter the Yeomen with Isaac, Rebecca, and
the two Churls with the litter.^

Chief Yeoman. He denies that he is Cedric,
good knight. He denies that this lady is his ward,
Rowena.

Knights. Ha, ha, ha ! Isaac ! Isaac !

De^ Bcexjf. 'Tis not Cedric you have captured,
yeoman ! 'T is the rich Jew, Isaac of York, and the
lady is his daughter, Rebecca.

Yeoman. I did not know — I thought —

De Bcbuf. No apologies, good yeoman ! Thou
hast made a rich catch and shall be rewarded for it.
I'll warrant thou hast good store of shekels with
thee, Isaac.

Isaac. Not a shekel ! Not a silver penny even !

De Bceup. Beshrew thee, Isaac ! I will help my-
self !

(He snatches from Isaac the furred bag that
hangs at his girdle ; opens it and throws a handful
of coins to the Yeomen, who gather them up eagerly,
the Knights laughing.)

To my castle with them both ! And guard them
well, yeomen !

IVANHOE 175

Isaac. Spare my daughter, Sir Knight ! I pray thee,
spare my daughter !

De Bcetjf. Cease thy chatter, Isaac! We'll hold
you both for ransom.

Knights. Aye ! Hold them — hold them !

De Bceuf. Away with, the Jew! Put the lady in
the litter !

Rebecca. There is a friend in the litter. Sir
Knight, a friend who has been sorely wounded.

De Bosxjf. Let him go whither he will. Come, yeo-
men, away with the prisoners !

[_Yeomen seize Isaac and Mebecca.^

Rebecca. Sir Knight, I pray thee to succor this
friend, who cannot live if deserted !

De Bceuf. We cannot be burdened with the sick.

De Bracy. Unless he were some Saxon lord, a
follower of King Richard.

Rebecca. Thou wouldst take him then? And care
for him ?

De Boeup. Aye, that I would ! (Aside.) In a
dungeon.

Rebecca. Then I'll tell thee the truth. The
wounded man is a Saxon knight — he is Sir Wilfred
of Ivanhoe !

Knights. Ivanhoe !

De B(euf. Yeomen, up with the litter ! To my
castle — away! (To Knights.) This will be good
news for Prince John — and shekels for each of us ! ,

Knights. Ha, ha ! Shekels, Isaac, shekels I

176 rVANHOE

ACT II

Time : a few hours later.

Place : Front-de-Boeuf & castle ; a tower room.

[^The room, which is rudely furnished, is vacant.
A bugle is heq,rd off. Pause. Bugle is sounded
twice. Enter Db B(euf and other Norman Knights. J

De B(Bup. What is the cause of this clamor?
That bugle now has winded thrice.

{He crosses to a window and looks out.)

Beshrew me, I see nothing below ! Look out, De
Bracy ! Your eye is keen to see an enemy.

{De Bracy and other Knights cross. Enter a
Sqtjibe, with a letter.)

Ha — a letter ! Here, boy, here !
[De Bcmf takes letter ; reads it ; shows anger. ^

Db Beacy. What says the letter?

Db Bceup. By my oath, 't is a letter of defiance !
I am ordered to deliver up the knight Ivanhoe, the
Jew Isaac, and his daughter, Rebecca; their churls,
their goods and moneys — and this immediately.
So says the missive.

Db Bracy. And who dares make such demand?

Db B(bup. 'T is signed by one who calls himself
The Black Knight.

Rtzursb. I dare say it comes from a swineherd.

Sib Brian. Just to show that he knows how to
write.

[The Knights laugh."]

IVANHOE 177

De Bcbuf. Well, howe'er it be, the fellow shall
have my defiance. Here, Squire, bear to the herald
my message ! Say, Front-de-Boeuf defies the Black
Knight and refuses to yield his prisoners.

Knights. Aye! Aye!

{^Exit Squire.']

Db B(EUF. Follow, my friends, and see that he
delivers my message properly.

(Exit Knights. De Bomf claps his hands. Enter
the Chief Yeoman.)

Where is the Jew ? Have you brought him from
his dungeon ?

Yeoman. Aye, Sir, he waits without.

De Bcbuf. Bring him hither.

{Exit Yeoman. He returns at once with Isaac,
who is guarded by two Men-at-Arms.)

Seest thou these scales, Isaac?

Isaac {terrified). What wilt thou. Sir Knight ?

De BcEtTF. In these scales thou shalt weigh me
out a thousand pounds of silver.

Isaac. A thousand pounds ! What eye has ever
seen such treasure ?

De B(Euf. Pay, or thou shalt receive such pun-
ishment as thy heart has never conceived.

Isaac. Have mercy on me, noble knight ! I am
aid and poor and helpless.

De Bgeuf. Pay, or accept thy doom.

Isaac. Eansack my house, thou wilt not find so
great a sum !

178 IVANHOE

De Bceuf. Ho, slaves, hither ! ( The Men-at-
Arms step forward.) Seize him — bind him down.

Isaac. I will pay ^ I will pay ! But what is my
surety that I shall be at liberty after this ransom
has been told?

Db B(EtJP. The word of a Norman noble.

Isaac. I crave pardon, but wherefore should I
rely upon the word of one who is the oppressor of
my race?

De Bceuf. Because thou canst not help it; I
have thee at an advantage there.

Isaac. Grant me, at least, with my own liberty,
that of the companions with whom I traveled.

Db Bceuf. Meddle not — I warn thee ! Now
when shall I have the shekels, Isaac?

Isaac. Let my daughter go forth to York. She
will pay you the treasure demanded.

De Bceuf. Thy daughter cannot go forth. I
have given her to one of my nobles.

Isaac. What ! What have you done?

De Bceuf. Your daughter Rebecca is now a
slave to the Templar, Sir Brian de Bois-Guilbert.

Isaac. Take all that you have asked ! Take ten
times more ! Reduce me to ruin and to beggary ,*
Nay, pierce me with thy dagger — burn me in th(
fire — but spare my daughter! I pray thee, spare
my daughter !

De Bceuf. I thought thy race loved nothing
save their money bags.

IVANHOE 179

Isaac. Think not so basely of us ! The hunted
fox, the tortured wild cat loves its young — the de-
spised Jew loves his children !

De Bceup. It is too late now — I have given my
word to the Templar. How wilt thou arrange to pay
me the ransom ?

Isaac. I will pay thee nothing — not one silver
penny will I pay thee, unless my daughter be released !

Db Bceuf. Art thou in thy senses? Dost thou
so yearn for the torture?

Isaac. I care not ! Do thy worst ! Take my_ life
if thou wilt ! My daughter is dearer to me a thousand
times than this flesh which thou dost threaten.

Db Bcbuf. Ho, slaves ! Chain him down !

[As the Men-at-Arms come forward, Ulrica
rushes in. She is old, ugly, and half crazed.^

Ulrica, The enemy ! The enemy !

De BcBUP. What dost thou mean ? Speak!

Ulrica. An army advances from the wood ! X
saw them from the turret.

De Bcbuf. Take the Jew back to his cell. — Anon
I'll settle with him.

[Exit Men-at-Arms with Isaac. The Knights
rush in.]

Sir Brian. We are besieged !

FiTZURSE. There are at least two hundred bow-
men ! A knight in black armor is at their head !

De Bracy. They are Saxon churls, the friends
and vassals of Cedric !

180 rVANHOE

Sib Bkian. They are come to rescue Ivanhoe!
We must sally forth and fight them !

De Bcbup. No ! We have scarce men enough to
defend the castle. The best of mine are at York in
attendance upon Prince John. In all, I have not
more than twenty here.

Db Bbaoy. Then we should deliver up tlie pris-
oners.

De Bcbuf. This castle may fall in ruins, ere I
give my consent to that !

Ulrica. It shall fall ! It shall fall !

De Bceup. Silence, hag ! This is no time for thy
prophecies !

Sir Brian (looking off). They are advancing
steadily and in order !

De Bceup. Let us to the walls then !

Knights. To the walls ! To the walls !
\_They rush outJ]

Ulrica. It shall fall ! It shall fall !

{Enter the Chief Yeoman with Ivanhoe, who
leans on him heavily. The Yeoman seats him in
a great chair. Ivanhoe is young, manly, and very
fair.)

Why dost thou bring him here ?

Yeoman. By our master's order. Thou art to
guard him. I am needed on the battlements.
\_£Jxit hurriedly."]

Ulrica (more gently). So thou art Saxon, Sir
Knight?

IVANHOE 181

IvANHOE. I am Cedric the Saxon's son, Wilfred of
Ivanhoe.

Ulrica. Thine accents are sweet in mine ear. I
am Saxon, too, and free born the same as thou.

Ivanhoe. Thou — a Saxon ! Then why art thou
here, in this Norman nest ?

Ulrica. Because this Norman has made me a
slave. Listen — Long ago this very castle was my
father's, and I was the Lady of it. Then came the
Normans upon our land. They seized this castle,
killed my father and his sons, and me they made a
prisoner.

Ivanhoe. And thou hast been kept here all these
years?

Ulrica. Aye, and cruelly mistreated ! Look at me
— wrinkled, old, and bent — I owe it all to these
Normans ! But the day of my vengeance will come !
It will come, I tell thee !

\^A noise is heard without, shouts, and the clash-
ing of arms J]

Ivanhoe. What is this ?

Ulrica. The men go up to the battlements.

Ivanhoe, Where are my companions? Where is
the maiden Kebecca ?

Ulrica. She has been locked in a cell near by.

Ivanhoe. Couldst thou not bring her here? I
fear me she is in danger.

Ulrica. I dare not free her !

Ivanhoe. The maiden has saved me from death,

182 rVANHOE

and I would befriend her with what poor protection
I can. Bring her. — Thou, too, art a Saxon.

Ulrica. Aye, and the day is at hand for my re-
venge ! I will free her ! I will free her !

[Ulrica goes out, muttering. Tumult is heard
again. Ivanhoe tries to rise from his chair, hut
cannot.l

Ivanhoe (sinking back). A broken lance ! Poor
protection, indeed, for a maiden !
{Enter Rebecca.)

Rebecca ! Thou art unharmed ?

Rebecca. Yes, but hast thou heard aught of my
father?

Ivanhoe. Nothing. But no harm can come to
him, now that we are besieged without. Dost know
by whom?

Rebecca. I know not, Sir Knight.

Ivanhoe. If I had but a spear, or an arrow, or
a battle ax ! But it is vain — I cannot strike one
blow for our deliverance.

Rebecca. Fret not, noble Knight — Hark! the
sounds have ceased ! It may be they will not battle.

Ivanhoe. No, this pause means only that the
men are at their posts, preparing for instant attack.
Could I but reach yonder window !

\_He tries again to nse.]

Rebecca. Thou wilt but injure thyself. — Rest !
I will stand at the lattice and describe to thee what
passes without.

IVANHOE 183

'[Crosses and looks through the lattice.']

IvANHOB. Be careful! The Saxon eye is keen,
and the Saxon arrow sure !

Rebecca. The edge of the wood seems lined with
archers.

IvANHOE. Who acts as leader?

Rebecca. A knight in black armor. They are
preparing to advance ! Zion protect us ! They come
on quickly, their bugles ahead.

\_Bugles are heard off.]

IvANHOB. 'T is the signal for assault !

Rebecca. They raise their bows ! A cloud of
arrows ! They fly so thick I cannot see the bowmen !

IvANHOE. Come away, Rebecca ! Each lattice will
now be a mark for the archers !

Rebecca. I will use this shield to protect me.

l^She places a large shield against the window.]

IvANHOE. Arrows will avail but little against
stone walls. They should press on and carry the bul-
warks.

RuBTSCCA (looking out). They do ! They are swarm-
ing now under the outer wall ! They are pulling down
the piles and palisades ! Their axes are hewing down
the barriers!

IvANHOE. Dost thou stiU sec their leader ?

Rebecca. Aye ! His high black plume floats out
like a raven over the field of the slain. They have
made another breach in the barriers — they are rush-
ing in — No ! — they are thrust back 1

184 IVANHOE

IvANHOE. Alas ! My heart is with the besiegers,
Rebecca.

Rebecca. And mine !

IvANHOE. Look forth again, Rebecca ! There is
less danger now. They must be fighting hand to
hand. Are they down ? — Tell me, are they down ?

Rebecca. No ! They rally — they are thronging
again to the breach — the pass is now disputed man
to man ! It is the meeting of two fierce tides — the
conflict of two oceans moved by adverse winds !

IvANHOE. Canst thou see the Black Knight now?

Rebecca. Yes — he and Front-de-Boeuf are fight-
ing hand to hand in the breach !

Ivanhoe. May Heaven protect the Black Knight!
I look upon him as our deliverer.

Rebecca. He is down ! He is down !

IvANHOE. Who? Tell me which has fallen !

Rebecca. The Black Knight! But no — no!
He is on foot again, and fights as if the strength of
twenty were in his single arm. His sword is broken
— he snatches an ax from a yeoman — he is press-
ing De Bceuf with blow on blow ! The giant stoops !
— he is tottering ! — he falls !

Ivanhoe. Our Black Knight?

Rebecca. No — no ! 'T is De Boeuf who falls !
His men are rushing to the rescue — they have
driven back the Knight — they are dragging De
Bceuf within the walls !

Ivanhoe. Have the assailants won the barriers?

IVANHOE 185

Rebecca. They have — they have! They press
the besieged hard upon the outer wall ! They are
planting ladders — they are trying to ascend !

IvANHOE. Do they succeed? Look, look, Rebecca !

Rebecca. The Normans are throwing down stones
and beams upon their heads! The wounded are
borne to the rear — fresh men take their places !
\_Pause. Rebecca continues looking outJ\

IvANHOE. Who yield now? Who push their way ?

Rebecca. The ladders are thrown down ! The
soldiers lie crashed beneath — the besieged have the
better.

IvANHOE. Saint George' strike for us! Do the
yeomen give way ?

Rebecca. No ! No ! They bear themselves right
yeomanly. The Black Knight is approaching with
his ax — he is striking at the outer gate — I hear
the blows above the din of the battle ! Now they
are throwing down stones from above — he regards
them no more than if they were thistle-down.

IvANHOE. Methought there was but one man
Hviug that might do such a deed ! That one, King
Richard, the lion-hearted. I have seen him fighting
thus in Palestine.

Rebecca. Thou wast a follower of King Rich-
ard's then ?

IvANHOE. Aye, and will be so, forever! Would
that he were back in England again !

1 The patron saint of England.

186 IVANHOE

(A great noise is heard.)

What is that, Rebecca?

Rebecca. The gate shakes — it crashes — it is
splintered by his blows !

IvANHOE. They rush in ?

Rebecca. Aye, they rush in — the outwork is
won ! Oh, Heaven be merciful ! They are hurling
the defenders from the battlements — they are throw-
ing them into the moat !

IvANHOB. The bridge — the bridge — have they
won that pass?

Rebecca. Alas — the Normans have destroyed
the plank and have escaped into the castle !

IvANHOE. Then the besiegers are cut off ?

Rebecca. Yes — the moat is wide and deep.

IvANHOE. The Black Knight will find a way to
cross it.

Rebecca. At present they are resting, both be-
siegers and besieged.

IvANHOB. 'T is only the lull before the storm.

Rebecca. The Black Knight is now conferring
with his men.

\_8he leaves the window.']

IvANHOE. 'T is strange indeed that there are two
such men of England ! Is there naught else by which
the Black Knight may be distinguished ?

Rebecca. Nothing. But I would know him again
among a thousand such. There seems to be more
than mere strength in him — it is as if the soul and

IVANHOE 187

spirit of the champion were given to every blow he
deals; It is his heart that has triumphed in this
battle.

IvANHOB. Rebecca, thou hast painted a hero. I
would endure ten years' captivity to fight one day
by that good knight's side !

Rebecca. 'T is naught but a vain wish for glory.

IvANHOE. No, 'tis my love for chivalry, which
alone distinguishes the noble from the base, the gentle
knightfrom the churl. 'Tis the light of chivalry alone
that raises us victorious over pain, toil, and suffering,
and teaches us to fear no evil but disgrace.

Rebecca. And I will tell thee of another light
which purifies and uplifts ; which makes a gentle
out of a savage, which fills all hearts with peace and
love. 'T is the light from Heaven, Sir Knight ; and
wherever it shines there can be no war between man
and his brother. Receive this light, Sir Ivanhoe, and
thou wilt find thy glory only in peace, and thy re-
nown in deeds of tenderness.

[Ulrica bursts into the room.'\

Ulrica, The castle burns ! The castle burns ! Be-
hold the smoke from the turret !

[Rebecca rushes, to window.']

Rebecca. 'T is true, Ivanhoe ! Flames leap from
windows and doors !

Ulrica. Aye! And 'twas I who did it ! The Nor-
man shall perish within his hold ! The day of my
vengeance has come ! Ha, ha ! It burns ! It burns J

188 rVANHOE

l^She rushes wildly from the room.']

IvANHOE. Fly, Rebecca, and save thyself !

Ebbecca. No, I will not leave thee ! Oh, my
father — my father ! What will be his fate !
(She looks out window.)

The drawbridge is down ! The Normans flee from
the castle ! The Black Knight has leaped to the
bridge — his followers close behind him — the Nor-
mans try to press them back — they struggle together
— all is confusion — the smoke from the castle comes
between — I can see no more —

IvANHOB. Fly ! Fly ! Save thyself !

\_Unter Sib Brian, his armor broken and bloody,
his plume torn and bent.]

Sib Bbian. Rebecca, I have found thee ! Come,
follow me ! I will save thee !

Rbbboca. Save my father ! Save this wounded
knight !

Sir Brian. A knight must encounter his fate, be
it sword or flame. There is no time to seek thy
father ! The castle burns rapidly ! Come !

Rebecca. No ! Rather will I perish !

Sir Brian. Thou art my slave, given to me by
Front-de-Boeuf ! Come — come !

\_IIe seizes Rebecca and carries her out.]

IvANHOE (shouting). Set her free ! Set her free
' — I command thee ! Set her free !

{Enter the Black Knight.)

The Black Knight ! — Thou —

IVANHOE 189

Black Kkight. I have come to save thee,
Ivanhoe !

IvAiTHOB. Think not of me ! Pursue that Nor-
man ! Eescue the maid ! Save the old man in the
dungeon below !

Black Knight. In their turn, Wilfred, but thine
is first.

Ivanhoe. Wilfred ! — Who art thou ?

Black Knight {opening visor). Richard, thy
King.

ACT III

Scene I

Time: the following week.

Place : Templestowe, the castle of the Templars.

\_The great hall of the castle is seen, a raised
dais at one end. A Guard in long black cloak
faces up and down before the door. Enter Mal-
voisiN, wearing the white robe and hood of the
Knight Templar. The Guard salutes him.]

Malvoisin. I would speak with the Templar
Sir Brian, at once.

, lExit Guard. Malvoisin walks back and forth
with folded arms and bowed head. Pause. Enter
Sir Brian de Bois-Guilbbrt, also wearing the
white robe and hood.]

Sir Brian. Thou art depressed — has aught
happened ?

190 IVANHOE

Malvoisin. Everything is amiss. The Grand
Master has arrived !

Sir Brian (starting). The Grand Master?

Malvoisin. Aye, come direct from France —
to investigate our order.

Sir Brian. This could not have happened at a^
vrorse time ! Rebecca's presence here must be kept
a secret from him.

Malvoisin. He knows.

Sir Brian (angrily). Hast thou betrayed me,
Malvoisin ?

Malvoisin. No — never ! Did I not consent to
the plot — to hold the girl here for ransom?

Sir Brian. Of which thou wast to have thy
share —

Malvoisin. The plan is ruined now. There is no
more severe Templar in the world than our renowned
Grand Master.

Sir Brian. I would I knew who betrayed me !
Front-de-Boeuf died of his wounds while his castle
burned ; Ulrica perished in the flames ; the knights
yielded themselves to Richard. Perhaps Isaac him-
self has traced his daughter here ?

Malvoisin. I know not, but this I tell thee : the
Master is enraged beyond all reason. He declares
that our order does not permit a Templar to cap*
ture for ransom, and least of all a Jewish maid.

Sir Brian. I shall be disgraced and expelled!

Malvoisin. Thou wilt have thy choice.

rVANHOE 191

Sir Brian. Of what?

Malvoisin. Thou art safe if thou wilt denounce
Kebecca.

Sir Brian. Denounce Rebecca ! What dost thou
mean?

Malvoisin. Rather than have the world say that
a Templar has captured for ransom, the Master will
prove that thou wast bewitched by this Jewess.

Sir Brian. He will accuse Rebecca of sorcery ?

Malvoisin, That is his plan.

Sir Brian. We must stop him —

Malvoisin. As well stop the stars from shining.
He has even now called a council of aU the knights
and has ordered hither Rebecca. He will try her as
a witch.

Sir Brian. He cannot — he dare not! There are
no witnesses against her !

Malvoisin. He will provide them. He has, in
Boothj found two churls, men-at-arms in the castle
here, who will swear to anything for a penny. The
maid's fate is certain — she will be burned for a
witch.

Sir Brian. No — ! She shall not suffer such an
awful death ! She must be allowed to escape !

Malvoisin. That is impossible. The castle is filled
with the Grand Master's men. They swarm every-
where — they are spying into everything.

Sir Brian. I will petition Prince John !

Malvoisin. Prince John belongs to yesterday.

192 rVANHOE

Hast thou forgot that King Richard has returned

— that he has even now crushed the conspiracy?
Sib Brian. I will take the maid to King Richard!
Malvoisin. And be thyself punished, as were the

other conspirators ?

Sir Brian. We must find a way to save her ! She
must be spirited away before the trial begins !

Malvoisin {looking off). Hush — they come now

— the Grand Master — the Knights and Esquires.
Evidently the trial is to proceed at once.

IMiter the Grand Master in flowing robes of
white, holding in his hand a staff; many Knights
Templars and Esquires in white cloaks and hoods;
Lower Members of the Order in black cloaks and
hoods. The Master takes a seat on the dais. Mal-
voisin joins the Knights. Sir Brian stands apart^

Master. Admit the prisoner!

{A Guard enters with Rebecca, who is veiled.
She is led to the dais. Enter Yeomen, Men-at-
Arms, and Peasants, who fill the lower part of
the hall. The Master stands and lifts his staff.
Silence.)

Knights of this Holy Order, my brethren and my
children ; and you, also. Esquires, who aspire to wear
the holy symbol ; you also, brethren of every degree,

— be it known to all that I have full power to judge,
condemn, and sentence, in all that regards the wel-
fare of this our Holy Order. Maiden, art thou the
Jewess Rebecca?

IVANHOE 19S

Rebecca. I am.

Master. Unveil thyself.

{Rebecca throws hack her veil. She is very pale,
but is dignified and calm.)

Brethren, this maid hasbewitched the Knight Brian
de Bois-Guilbert, a brave and true knight, who has
killed with his own hand three hundred Saracens.
In an evil hour he met this Jewess, who at once
cast over him a wicked spell, which compelled him
to act contrary to the holy rules of our Order. Sir
Brian, what sayst thou to my accusations?

Sm Brian. I have no reply to such wild and vague
charges.

Master. Thy answer shows thee to be still under
the spell. We will gain nothing by allowing thee
to speak further. But we have witnesses who can
testify to the witch-like character of this Jewess.
Forward, Yeomen !

{Guards escort two Yeomen to the dais.)

Yeomen, have you observed the prisoner since her
arrival here ?

Yeomen. Aye, Master !

Master. Speak then, and freely.

First Yeoman. Master, I have heard the maid
mutter to herself in an unknown tongue. I have
heard her sing songs of a strangely sweet sound,
which made mine ears to tingle.
\_IIe pauses. "]

Master. Well? Well?

194 IVANHOE

First Yeoman. I have heard her speak as if to the
air, and then look upward for a reply.

Master. 'T is serious — most serious. Now 't is
thy turn, fellow.

Second Yeoman. Master, yester-noon I saw the
Jewess at her window in the turret. Suddenly she
took on the form of a milk-white swan, which then
flitted three times round the castle.
[^Jffe pauses.']

Master,. Speak on !

Second Yeoman. I then beheld this swan alight,
and again become the Jewess.

Master. 'T is a grievous matter ! Prisoner, thou
hast practised the art of healing, I hear.

Rebecca. Yes, Master; and knight and yeoman,
vassal and squire may testify to their recovery.

Master. Brethren, she has worked her .cures by
words and signs and strange mysteries.

Rebecca. Nay, Master, only by herbs !

Master. I tell thee, brethren, that it was done by
enchantment. How otherwise can a Jew heal? Hark
ye, Rebecca — no more shalt thou throw spell and
incantation over a Templar of our Order. Witches
have been ever burned for that. Dost thou deserve
any better ?

{_The peasant Higg limps on his crutches from
lower end of hall.]

Higg. No, no ! 'T is not enchantment, Master !

Master. Who art thou ?

IVANHOE 195

HiGG. Higg, the son of Snell. Master, I once la-
bored in her father's house. I fell sore sick and was
cured by a salve the maiden gave me. And if thou
wilt not believe, here is still a part of the salve- Be-
hold !

Master. Give it me.
[He takes the salve and turns to a Knight.)

Brother, thou hast knowledge of medicine. Canst
thou tell the ingredients of this salve ?

\_The Knight examines the salve."]

Knight. I know not of what it is compounded.

Master. Then, since it is beyond thy knowledge,
it is unlawful, and is proof absolute of the maiden's
sorcery.

Higg {to Mehecca). Alas, I meant to save thee !
I have only helped to haste thy doom.

Bebecca. Peace, poor man. Thou hast done me
no harm by speaking the truth.

Master. Prisoner, hast thou aught to say for
thyself?

. Bebecca. Sir Brian, to thyself I appeal — whether
these accusations are not false ?

{All turn toward Sir Brian. He is silent.)

Speak, if thou art a man ! If thou art a Christian,
speak ! I conjure thee by the knighthood thou dost
vaunt, by the honorable name thou bearest — I pray
thee to say, are these things true ?

\_Sir Brian is silent.]

Master. His silence testifies against thee, maid.

196 rVANHOE

Rebecca. Aye, he has made his choice. Rather
than his own disgrace, it is to be the blood of an
innocent maid.

Malvoisin. Master, thou mayst see from this that
Sir Brian is a true Knight Templar.

l^As all look at Malvoisin, Sir Brian steps
quickly to Rebecca's side.]

Sib Beian {aside to Rebecca). Demand a cham-
pion ! Quick — demand a champion !

[^He returns, unnoticed, to his former position.]

Master. Rebecca, hast thou aught else to say?

Rebecca. Aye ! I deny this charge ! I maintain
my innocence ! I demand a champion !

Master. What Christian knight will be the
champion of a Jewess ?

Rebecca. It must be that in all England there
will be found one who will fight for justice. There
— I throw down my gage !

\_She throws her glove at the Master* s feet.]

Master. Dost thou persist in this? Dost thou
realize that it is our Order which thou dost defy ?

Rebecca. I care not — I do persist.

Master. So be it. Sir Brian, thou shalt do battle
for thine Order and against the maid.

Sir Brian. No — no !

Master {sternly). I bid thee receive the gage,
Sir Knight !

{Malvoisin takes the glove to Sir Brian, who re-
fuses to take it.)

IVANHOE 197

Receive it — I command thee !

{Sir Brian takes the glove, hut unwillingly.)

Rebecca, thou shalt have three days in which to
find a champion.

Rebecca. Is there any one present who will take
the message to my father if he be still alive ? If not,
then to some one of my race?

(Silence ; pause.)

Is it thus? Am I to be deprived of every chance of
safety ? You would scarce refuse the worst criminal
such an act of charity.

HiGG. I will do thine errand, maid !

Rebecca. I thank thee, sir. Here is money for thy
journey. Go quickly ! Life and death are in thy
haste !

\_Sigg takes money. JExit-l

Master. And now, if thy champion come not, or
if he be overcome in the lists by Sir Brian, then thou
shalt die the death of a sorceress — thou shalt be
burned as a witch.

[Rebecca shudders, then lifts her arms to Heanen,
as if invoking aid."]

Scene II

Time : shortly before noon, the third day after the trial.
Place : the tilt-yard of Templeatowe.

[The Grand Master throned high, Knights,
and Esquires are seen seated at one side. A little

198 IVANHOE

apart stand Sir Brian and Malvoisin talking to-
gether. At the other side sifs Rebecca alone; near
her is a great pile of fagots. Back are Yeomen and
Peasants. A Herald stands, trumpet in hand, look-
ing off into the lists, which are not, however, visible
to those watching the play. Pause."]

A Knight. Master, for two hours now we have
awaited the appearance of a champion for the
maiden.

Second Knight. Master, has not the time come
to declare the pledge of Rebecca forfeited ?

Master. Herald — hither ! Go ask the maid
whether she still expects a champion.

( The Herald crosses to Rebecca and speaks with
her aside.)

Let the trumpets flourish again ! Let the Knight
Sir Brian again step forth !

[ The trumpets sound. Sir Brian comes forward,
clad magnificently in armor. A Second Herald
steps forth.]

Second Herald. Hark ! Hark ! Hark ! Here
stands the good knight Sir Brian de Bois-Guilbert,
ready to do battle with any Christian knight who
will sustain the maiden's quarrel, and ready to main-
tain that Rebecca has justly deserved the doom passed
upon her. Here, I say, he stands, such battle now to
do!

[ J..S the trumpets sound again, the First Herald
crosses to the Grand Master.]

IVANHOE 199

First Herald. Master, the maid demands the de-
lay she says is still due her.

, Master. Let none impeach us of injustice ! We
will wait until these shadows are cast eastward.
When the day is so* far passed, let the maid prepare
for death.

[^Eaeh Knight hows his head and folds his arms.
Sir Brian crosses to HebeccaJ]

Sib Brian {in a low voice). Rebecca !

Rebecca. What dost thou here?

Sir Brian. Sister ! — These lists — this chair
set here — these fagots — you know their purpose ?

— You understand? Rebecca, I would save thee!

— Come ! My Arab steed is just without — mount
thee behind me ! Mount, I say, behind me, and in
one short hour we shall be beyond pursuit. — Come,
Rebecca, come !

Rebecca. Begone — I trust thee not !

Sir Brian. Maiden, look on those fagots, reflect
on thy terrible doom ! I tell thee —

Malvoisin {stepping over to Sir Brian). Hath
the maiden acknowledged her guilt, or is she reso-
lute?

Sib Brian. She is indeed resolute.

Master {rising). Sir Brian, thou canst no longer
speak aside. The shadows have crossed from the
west to the east: the day is waning. Rebecca,
arise.

{Rebecca rises.)

200 IVANHOE

No champion has yet appeared for thee ; in which
case it becomes my duty to declare —
[ JL Herald rushes m.J

Herald [pointing off). A champion ! A cham
pion !

l^Alljump to their feet and look off."]

All. a champion ! A champion !

[Enter a Strange Knight in armor. His hel-
met is closed.']

Herald. Sir Knight, I demand thy name, thy
rank, and thy purpose here, according to the cus-
toms of chivalry.

Strange Knight. I am a good knight and noble,
come hither to sustain with lance and sword the just
and lawful quarrel of this maiden, and to defy Sir
Brian de Bois-Guilbert as champion of the Templars.

Malvoisin. The stranger must first show that
he has an honorable name.

Strange Knight [opening his visor). I am Wil-
fred of Ivanhoe.

Sir Brian. I will not fight with thee at present.
Get thy wounds healed, buy thee a better horse, and
it may be I will then think it worth my while to
scourge thee.

Ivanhoe. Templar, I will proclaim thee a coward
in every court in Europe, unless thou do battle with-
out further delay.

Sir Brian. Take thy lance then, and prepare for
the death thou hast drawn upon thyself !

IVANHOE 201

IvANHOE. Does the Grand Master allow me the
combat ?

Master. I may not deny thee, provided the
maiden accepts thee as her champion. Yet I would
thou wert in better plight — I would have thee
honorably met with.

IvANHOE. Eebecca, dost thou accept me for thy
champion?

Rebecca. I do ! Heaven has sent thee, Ivanhoe.
Yet, no — no — thy wounds are uncured ! Why
shouldst thou parish, also ?

IvANHOB. I go to my post ! Do thou likewise,
Templar !

\_Uxit Ivanhoe. Exit Sir Brian.']

Herald. The Knights enter the lists! The
Knights enter the lists ! Let none on peril of instant
death dare to disturb this fair field of combat !

[The Grand Master holds Hebecca's glove aloft
and then casts it down.]

Master. Begin !

[7%e trumpets sound. All look off to lists, show-
ing great excitement while the contest is going on.]

Malvoisin. They charge — they throw their
lances !

Master. Ivanhoe is down — he lies under, his
steed !

A Knight. He frees himself — he is now on foot !

Second Knight. And advancing with drawn
sword !

202 IVANHOE

Malvoisin. Look ! Sir Brian reels — he falls
from his steed !

Master. Methought Ivanhoe's lance but barely-
touched him !

Malvoisin. Ivanhoe stands over him — he places
his foot on his breast — and his sword point to his
throat. 'T is yield or die !

[Enter the Black Knight, followed by other
Knights. They are. unnoticed hy the Templar sJ]

Black Knight {looking around). I pray we are
not too late !

Master. Slay him not, Sir Knight! We allow
him vanquished. Unhelm him, I command you.
[He descends into the listsJ]

Black Knight. "Who is vanquished?

A Templar [still looking intently toward the
lists). Sir Brian de Bois-Guilbert, alas !

Black Knight. Peace be with him. He was a
gallant knight, and has died in his harness full
knightly.

[Enter the Grand Master.]

Master. Unscathed by the lance, yet dead. — A
judgment of God !

[Silence. All remain awestruck, looking from
one to the other. 1

Templars {murmuring). A judgment of God !
[Enter Ivanhoe, pale and weak-l

Black Knight {in a low voice). "Wilfred —

Ivanhoe. King Richard ! — My Liege !

IVANHOE 203

Black Knight. Was it well, Ivanhoe, to take on
thee such a venture, and thou scarce able to keep
thy saddle ? I had doomed Bois-Guilbert for mine
own property, but thou wast before me. {Looking
around.) Where is the maiden ? Has judgment been
passed ?

Ivanhoe. By your leave, I go to hear it now.
[He advances hefore the Grand Master.)

Does the Grand Master allow that the Champion
of the accused has manfully and rightfully done his
duty in the combat?

Master. Manfully and rightfully hath it been
done. I pronounce the maiden free and guiltless. The
arms and the body of the deceased Knight are at
the will of the victor.

Black Knight {to one of his followers). We
must waste no time. Do thine office.

Knight {stepping forward and laying a hand on
the shoulder of Malvoisin). I arrest thee of high
treason.

Master. Who dares arrest a knight of the Temple
of Zion, within its holy precincts, and in the presence
of the Grand Master ? — and by whose authority ?

Black Knight {opening his visor). By order of
Richard, King of England, here present.

[2%e Templars show consternation.']

Templars. The King ! — The King !

Master. A Templar is subject to his Order alone,
not to the King of England.

204 IVANHOE

King. It shall be so no more. Look up, proud
Templar ! and behold, the Royal Standard of Eng-
land floats over thy towers, replacing thy Temple
banner !

Master. I will resist thee !

King. Be wise 2 — Thy hand is in the lion's mouth !
{He places a horn to his lips, and sounds a long
low call. Miter a large force of Mbn-at-Arms.
Isaac enters with them.) Master, dissolve thy chap-
ter. England shall see no more of the Templars'
power. I shall ferret out their nests as I have ferreted
out here a conspiracy (pointing to Malvoisin) to
seat John upon my throne. Remain, and you shall
behold our justice ! Rebecca, thou art free ! Isaac,
go to thy daughter.

\_Isaac crosses to Rebecca and clasps her in his
arms.'l

Rebecca. Father! Father!

A SON OF THE YEMASSEE

Sanutee, a Chief of the Yemassee.

Matiwan, his Squaw.

occonestoga, his son.

Sir Edmund Bellinger.

Second Commissioner.

Third Commissioner.

Mr. Granger.

Mrs. Granger.

ishiagaska,

Choluculla,

Enoree-Mattee,

Manneywanto,

Metatchee,

HUSPAH,

oonalatchie,
Sarrataha,

Braves, Torch-bearers.

-Yemassee Chiefs.

ACT I

Time : 1715 ; a summer morning.
Place : South Carolina ; a forest near the Yemassee
village.

. \_An Indian lodge is seen. The low door opens,
and Sanutee comes out. He is a tall, majestic man,
'perhaps fifty years of age, with Iceen eyes and a
calm, hut stern expression. He wears a close-fitting

206 A SON OF THE YEMASSEE

Indian costume, without ornament of any kind. A
how and a quiver of arrows hang upon his shoul-
ders ; a tomahawk from his waist. He starts off
through the forest. Enter Matiwan from lodge.
She is neither young nor beautiful, but her face is
gentle and kind.~\

Matiwan. Sanutee — the chief — will he come
back with the night?

Sanutee. He knows not, Matiwan. The lodge of
the white man is now in the old house of the deer,
and the swift-foot comes no more to the clear water
where once he drank.

Matiwan. The white man grinds his corn with
the waters, and the deer is afraid of the noise.

Sanutee {bitterly). Sanutee must now hunt in
the far swamps — Sanutee, chief of the gre&,t Yemas-
see !

Matiwan. The white man has driven him thither.

Sanutee. Sanutee and his warriors will soon hunt
as of old. They will again hunt in the land of their
fathers.

Matiwan. What means Sanutee ? Will he drive
the Eng-lish from the land ?

Sanutee. Sanutee will speak when the time is
ripe. See — the sun is high — he must go.
\^He starts off.']

Matiwan (following). Sanutee — great chief —
\_She pauses. 1

Sanutee (turning). Sanutee has ears, Matiwan.

A SON OF THE YEMASSEE 207

Matiwan. The boy — the boy — Occonestoga —

Sanutee {angrily). Occonestoga is a slave ! He
is ever in the lodges of the English — he believes
in their forked tongues. Let him not look into the
lodge of Sanutee !

Matiwan. But Occonestoga is the son of Sanutee.

Sanutee. Sanutee has no son — Sanutee has for-
gotten Occonestoga.

Matiwan. Matiwan cannot forget.

Sanutee. ' Matiwan shall not see him in my ab-
sence.

Matiwan. Sanutee ! Speak not such words ! The
boy was once a brave warrior — Sanutee was once
proud of him. Then came the pale face with the
strong water that blinds.

Sanutee. Did Sanutee yield ?

Matiwan. No, but Sanutee was in the beginning
friend to the English.

Sanutee. Sanutee is friend to them no more. For
many moons now, Sanutee has been watching, think-
ing, understanding. He sees the white man grow
every day more powerful. He sees the Yemassee
slowly becoming his slave.

[Enter Ishiagaska /rom the forest. He is ahotd
the age of Sanutee, hut has not the same nobility :
is cunning and malignant. Matiwan listens, then
busies herself about the lodge."]

IsHiAGASKA. Sanutee!

Sanutee. Sanutee listens — speak !

SOS A SON OP THE YEMASSEE

IsHiAGASKA {fiercely). The English shall die !
Their scalps shall hang on the belt of the warrior !

Sanutee. What has happened — what new insult
to the Yemassee?

IsHiAGASKA. They drove me from the hunting
ground — I, a Yemassee chief !

Sanutee. Sanutee would know all.

IsHiAGASKA. Por many hours I had tracked a
deer. At last I saw him drinking. My arrow flew —
then came a shot from across the forest. The deer
fell — I was drawing my arrow from his side when
a pale face sprang and claimed him.

Sanutee. Claimed him — claimed the deer with
your arrow in his side ?

Ishiagaska. The pale face said 'twas his shot
that killed. He threatened me, should I deny him.

Sanutee. And you yielded ?

Ishiagaska. Aye, Sanutee. The pale face speaks
with mouth of fire.

Sanutee. Soon our braves will hunt from sun to
sun, and return to the lodge with empty hands. The
Yemassee must be free !

Ishiagaska. He shall drink blood for strength.
He shall hunt the track of the English to the shores
of the big water. His war cry shall ring death in the
ear that sleeps.

Sanutee. No — let them go from the Yemassee,
and the tomahawk shall be buried — it would drink
no blood from the English.

A SON OF THE YEMASSEE 209

IsHiAGASKA. He will not go ! His teeth are in the
trees, and he eats into the earth for his own. There
must be blood.

Sajiutbb. No — he will not go. The knife of the
Yemassee must be red. But not yet — the moon
must sleep first. The Yemassee is a little child till
then.

IsHiAGASKA. Will Sanutee prepare for war ?

Sanutee. Sanutee wiU call the chiefs this night
in council.

IsHiAGASKA. Sanutce is noble. He knows not that
many chiefs will barter their land for the trinkets of
the Enghsh.

Sakutee. Sanutee knows, and his heart is heavy
within him.

IsHiAGASKA. Sanutcc is great in the land of the
Yemassee. The little chiefs are jealous. Does not
Sanutee feel eyes watching him in the dark ?

Sanutee. The pale face is our enemy. We must
be one against him.

Ishiagaska. Has not Sanutee been heard in the
council ? Has he not cried, " Brethren, do not sell
your lands to the English"?

Sanutee. Sanutee has spoken, but the ears of his
brethren are closed.

IsmAGASKA. The people call Sanutee their well-
beloved ; the chiefs hear ; their faces grow dark ; they
are jealous of Sanutee.

Sanutee. The people know that Sanutee has ever

210 A SON OF THE YEMASSEE

acted for the good of his nation. Go, then ; bid the
chiefs to the council tonight.

IsHiAGASKA. Occonestoga is a chief of the Yemas-
see. Shall he be called to the council ?

Sanxjteb. Let him be called. Is it not the law of the
Yemassee that the voice of every chief must be heard?
[^Matiwan steps forward and listens.^

IsHiAGASKA. What if Occonestoga speaks for the
white man ?

Sanutee. He shall hear the thunder, and the
lightning shall flash in his path. He shall die by the
hand of Sanutee.

IsHiAGASitA. 'T is well —
[Exit.l

Sanutee {to Matiwan). Sanutee will return with
the night.

\_Enter Mr. and Mrs. Granger. They are strong
and fearless pioneers. They wear the pioneer dress.
Sanutee looks at them coldly and turns to go.'\

Granger. Sanutee ! Do you not know ? I am
Granger, the trader in furs.

Sanutee. What will Granger of Sanutee?

Mrs. Granger. Has the great chief no greeting
for us?

Sanutee. Why comes Granger's wife to the lodge
of Matiwan ?

Mrs. Granger. Why ? Do I not often come with
Mr. Granger to help with the trade?

Sanutee. Sanutee has no furs for the trader.

A SON OP THE YEMASSEE Sll

Granger. Does not the chief forget ? 'T was but
yesterday that Matiwan showed me some beautiful
skins in the lodge there. I will buy them all, Sanutee.
I will give these beads — see !

l^He displays several chains of headsJ]

Sanutee. Sanutee will not trade.

Granger. If Sanutee likes not these things, he
may choose others. There are many things in my
cabin close by.

Sanutee. Sanutee will not enter the lodge of the
pale face.

Granger. What does this mean, Sanutee ?

Mrs. Granger. Is the chief no longer our friend ?

Sanutee. Sanutee is friend to Granger and his
wife. Does he not allow them to live close to the
Yemassee village ?

Granger. Then why does he refuse to trade ?

Sanutee. Let Granger go back to the English
— let him go to the ships — let him sail away.

Granger. Sanutee, wherefore should the English
go upon the waters ? Are not the Yemassee and the
English brothers, that take the same track and have
the same friends and enemies ?

Sanutee. Sanutee believed that once. Now he
asks nothing — he gives nothing.

Mrs. Granger. Have we offended Sanutee?

Sanutee. Sanutee blames not Granger nor
Granger's wife, but he bids them return to their
lodge.

212 A SON OF THE YEMASSEE

Granger. Sanutee has spoken — we go.

Mrs. Granger. But first I would give to Mati-
wan a little gift I have brought her.

\_She presents a bead chain to Matiwan, who
takes it and puts it around her neck.']

Sanutee. No ! Matiwan shall not take ! Matiwan
asks nothing from the pale face !

Mrs. Granger. Why, 't is only a gift —

Sanutee. Sanutee has said — he waits for the
white man to go.

{Granger and his wife go, showing consterna-
tion.)

Matiwan shall wear none of the white man's
trinkets. Take that chain from your neck.

(Matiwan removes chain. Sanutee flings it into
the forest.)

Matiwan shall not trade in my absence. Does
Matiwan understand?

Matiwan. Matiwan understands — she will obey.

\_Sanutee nods and glides quickly into the depths
of the forest. Matiioan crouches hy lodge door and
buries her face in her hands. Pause. A bird call
is heard near. Matiwan listens. The call is re-
peated. Matiwan answers. Enter Occonestoga.
He is young, tall, and well formed, but shows the
effect of drinking in his swollen face and inflamed
eyes.]

My boy — my boy — Occonestoga.

Occonestoga. Sh ! — Sanutee —

"I-ET NOT SANUTEE SEE THOSE GIFTS!'

214 A SON OF THE YEMASSEE

MatIwan. Occonestoga need not fear — he can
stay till the sun sets — till Sanutee returns with the
deer.

Occonestoga. No, Occonestoga goes soon to the
council.

Matiwan. Ah, Matiwan is happy now — Occon-
estoga goes again to sit with the chiefs.

Occonestoga. Matiwan understands not — 'tis the
English who hold council.

Matiwan. What words do you speak ? ' T is San-
utee who has called a council of the Yemassee chiefs
this night.

Occonestoga. Cha ! Sanutee will be angry. The
English have come — Occonestoga guided them
thither.

Matiwan. Let not Sanutee hear such words !

Occonestoga. The white men are good friends
to Occonestoga. Look, what they have given him !
\^He shows several bead chains.]

Matiwan. Let not Sanutee see those gifts !

Occonestoga. Sanutee has driven Occonestoga
from his lodge. He cannot drive him from the pale
face.

Matiwan. Sanutee will drive the pale face from
the land.

Occonestoga. Cha ! The English come for more
land. They are with the chiefs now in council.

Matiwan. It cannot; be — If it were, would San-
utee now be tracking the deer ?

A SON OF THE YEMASSEE 215

OccoNESTOGA. The English care not to meet with
Sanutee. They sent gifts in advance to many chiefs ;
and many, many gifts have they brought with them.

Matiwan. The pale face knows that his gifts will
talk. Go, Occonestoga, and forbid the chiefs to sell
their lands. Go — speak in the name of Sanutee !

Occonestoga. No, Matiwan — Occonestoga is
bound to the English.

Matiwan. Go, my son, go! Occonestoga is a
chief — he was once beloved by his nation.

Occonestoga {shaking head). Occonestoga has
shamed Sanutee. He begs at the lodge of the English
for drink. He has bound himself to the English for
these.

l^He holds up the head chains.']

Matiwan. Matiwan will tear them apart! Mati-
wan will fling them away to the winds !
\_She takes the heads."]

Occonestoga {gloomily). 'T would leave Occon-
estoga still in chains — he must have the drink of
the white man.

Matiwan. No — he will conquer this evil spirit
within his breast. He will again be the pride of the
Yemassee.

Occonestoga. Occonestoga has tried — fierce bat-
tles has he fought with this spirit.

Matiwan. He has shut his eyes and gone upon
the track of a foolish dream, but he will wake with
the spring.

216 A SON OF THE YEMASSEE

OccoNBSTOGA. It may be — the sun and the storm
are brothers.

Matiwan {starting). Some one comes !
[ Occonestoga looks off cautiously. 1

OccoNESTOGA. 'T is Sanutee !

Matiwan. Go, my boy — go — go !

\_jExit Occonestoga. Enter Sanutee from the
opposite side.]

Sanutee. My knife, Matiwan, my knife in the
sheath —

\_Matiwan enters lodge, and returns at once
with a knife in its sheath. As she offers it to San'
utee, he sees Occonestoga' s chains, which still hang
from her arms. He points to them, speaking an-
grily.]

The white trader — has he been again in the lodge
of Sanutee ?

Matiwan. No — no, Sanutee — the white trader
— no ! Not Granger — he has not been here again.

Sanutee. The beads — the beads !

[He tears them from her arm, and tramples them
fiercely under his feet.)

Who gave those beads to Matiwan ? Speak !

Matiwan. The boy — the boy —

Sanutee. Came he to the lodge when Sanutee
said no?

Matiwan. He is the child of Matiwan — Mati-
wan has no other.

Sanutee. Darkens he still the lodge of Sanutee ?

A SON OF THE YEMASSEE 217

Matiwan. No — he has gone with the English to
talk in council with our chiefs.

Sanuteb. What words are these ? The English
here — in council with the chiefs ?

Matiwan. So said Occonestoga.

Sanuteb. They come for more land — they would
have all. But they know not Sanutee — they think
he sleeps — that he has no tongue — that his people
have forgotten his voice ! They shall see. Where
went Occonestoga with the English ?

Matiwan. To the council hall in the village.

Sanutee. To buy our chiefs with painted glass
and red cloth and burning water. They blind not
Sanutee — they buy not Sanutee ! Sanutee goes to
the council.

Matiwan. Sanutee, you will see the boy ! 0,
well-beloved of the Yemassee, look not upon him to
strike !

\_She kneels at his feet. Sanutee is softened-l

Sanutee. I would not see him, for he is the son
of Matiwan.

Matiwan. Say that Sanutee will not see to
strike !

Sanutee. I would not see him ! But let him, not
stand in the path of Sanutee ! The knife — Sanutee
goes to the. council.

[He takes the knife from Matiwan's trembling
hands and darts into the forest.^

218 A SON OF THE YEMASSEE

ACT II

Time : the same morning ; a few minutes later.
Place : interior of council lodge in Yemassee village.

[^The room is large; it is built of logs ; the floor
is of turf. About the room stand twelve Indian
ToRCH-BEAREKS, holding aloft burning brands of
pine. Many Indian CfflEPS are seen seated upon
skins — motionless, silent. Upon a mat apart sit
three English Commissioners. JYear them is a
pile of presents. Pause. Sir Edmund Bellinger
rises.li

Sir Edmund. Powerful chiefs of the all-powerful
Yemassee nation, — friends, brothers, — it is with
pleasure I see you gathered here in response to our
invitation. How beautiful a thing it is that you
should make us so welcome in your land — should
be so willing to harbor us here — so peaceful and
loving toward us ! "We wish to show our appreciation
of this, our gratitude toward our brothers. There-
fore, we bring you gifts — we pray you to receive
them.

\_The other Commissioners quickly give out the
presents. The Chiefs accept and put on the bright
cloaks, mantles, and coats ; accept also hatchets,
knives, beads, etc. Enter Sanuteb, followed by
IsHiAGASKA. Sanutce surveys the Chiefs and Com-
missioners sternly, Pause-I

A SON OF THE YEMASSEE 219

Sanutbe. "Who came to the lodge of Sanutee to
say that the chiefs were in council? Is not Sanutee
a chief ? The Yemassee call him so, or he dreams.
Look, chiefs, is the arrow of the Yemassee gon?
from the arm of Sanutee ?

{He hares his arm and pqints to the arrow, the
totem of the tribe, marked in his skin.)

It is well. Sanutee is here — he is a chief — he
will hear the words of the English.

[Ishiagaska throws a bearskin, which he car-
ries, upon the turf. Sanutee sits with dignity. Ish-
iagaska sits near. Sir Edmund rises.]

Sir Edmund. Chiefs of the Yemassee, we come
from your English brothers. They have told us to
say that one house covers the English and the Yem-
assee. To prove their faith they have sent us with
words of peace and good-will. To you, Sanutee, they
send this coat, which they have worn close to their
hearts, and which they would have you wear in like
manner, in proof of the love between us.
[He presents a rich but gaudy coat to Sanutee."]

Sanutee. Our English brother is good, but Sanu-
tee asks not for the cloak. Does Sanutee complain
of the cold ?

Sib Edmund. The chief will not reject the gift of
his friend and brother ?

Sanutee. Does the white chief come to the coun-
cil of the Yemassee as a fur trader ? Would he have
skins for his coat ?

220 A SON OF THE YEMASSEE

Sir Edmund. No, Sanutee, the English chief is a
great chief. He does not barter for skins.

Sanutee. A great chief ! He came to the Yem-
assee a little child, and we took him into our lodges.
We gave him meat and water. We helped him with
a staff, as he tottered through the thick woods.

SiE Edmund. That is true, but —

Sanutee. We showed him how to trap the beaver
and hunt the deer. We sent our young men on the war-
path against his enemy. And now he sends us a coat !

Sib, Edmund. We deny none of your services,
Sanutee, but —

Sanutee. He sends good words to the Yemassee,
he gives him painted glass, and makes him blind with
the water that is poison ; his shot rings in our for-
ests — we hide from his long knife in the cold swamp,
while the copper snake creeps over us, as we sleep.

Sir Edmund. You do us wrong, Sanutee; you
have nothing to fear from the English.

Sanutee. Pear — Sanutee has no fear of the Eng-
lish. He fears only that the Yemassee warrior may
go blind with the English poison — that the great
chiefs of the Yemassee may sell him for a slave to
the pale face, to plant his maize and to sit in his
lodge like a squaw.

Sir Edmund. There is no reason for this fear,
Sanutee; the English are your friends —

Sanutee. Would the English have more land from
the Yemassee ? Let him speak.

A SON OF THE YEMASSEE 221

Sir Edmund. The English do want to buy some
of the land o£ your people —

Sanutee. Did not Sanutee say ? You want all that
lies hetween this village and your own.
(Pause.)

Why does not the white chief speak ?

Sir Edmund. Well — yes — I have been in-
structed to buy that much, Sanutee.

Sanutee. 'Tis thousands and thousands of acres
— the richest land of the Yemassee. And the coat is
for the land ?

Sir Edmund. No, Sanutee, the coat is a free gift
from the English. They ask for nothing in return.
But we would buy your lands with other things —

Sanutee. I will not sell the land of my people !
The Yemassee loves the old trees and the shady
waters where he was born, and where the bones of
the old warriors lie buried. I speak to you, chiefs —
it is the voice of Sanutee. Hear his tongue — it has
no fork; look on his face — it does not show lies.
These are the scars of battle, when I went forth for
my people. Hear me then.

Chiefs. Speak, Sanutee.

8 AS jjTBB (rising). It is good. Chief s of the Yem-
assee, hear ! Why comes the English to the lodge of
our people ? Why comes he with a red coat to the
Chief ? Why brings he beads and paints for the eye
of a little boy ? Why brings he strong water for the
young men? Why makes he long speeches, full of

222 A SON OF THE YEMASSEE

smooth words? Why does he call us brother? 'Tis
because he would have our lands.

Enorbe-Mattbe. Sanutee has said!

Choluculla. Sanutee has said!

Sanutee. But we have no lands to sell. The lands
came from our fathers — they must go to our chil-
dren. They do not belong to us to sell — they belong
to our children to keep.

Ishiagaska. 'T is true, Sanutee !

Enoeee-Mattbe. 'T is true, great chief !

Sanutee. We have sold too much land. The old
turkey, before the sun sinks behind the trees, can
fly over all the land that is ours. Shall the turkey
have more land in a day than the Yemassee has for
his children ? Speak for the Yemassee, chiefs of the
broad-arrow — speak for the Yemassee ! Speak, Ishia-
gaska ! Speak, Choluculla ! Speak, Enoree-Mattee, thou
friend of the Great Spirit, whose words are as true as
the sun, and whose wisdom comes swifter than the
lightning — speak, prophet — speak for the Yem-
assee !

Enoree-Mattee. Enoree-Mattee is prophet of the
Great Spirit — he will not sell the lands of the Yem-
assee.

Ishiagaska. The English shall have no land from
the Yemassee — it is the voice of Ishiagaska.

Choluculla. The Yemassee will not sell — it is
the voice of Choluculla.

\_Pause.']

A SON OF THE YEMASSEE 223

Sawutee. Speak on, chiefs — speak all for the
Yemassee !

[^He sits. Manneywanto, a brave but dishonest
chief, arises-l
. Manneywanto. Sanutee may say, the prophet may
say — but they say not for Manneywanto. There are
brave chiefs of the Yemassee, yet we hear only San-
utee. Sanutee ! cha ! cha ! I am here — I — Manney-
wanto. I speak for the trade with our English brother.
The Yemassee will sell the land to the pale face.

Metatchbb. Metatchee will trade with the Eng-
hsh.

OoNALATCHiE. Oonalatchie will sell to the Eng-
Ush.

HusPAH. Huspah loves the white man — he will
sell them the land.

Sakrataha. Sarrataha will trade with his brother.

[OccoNESTOGA now Hses from a dark corner and
comes into the circle-l

OccoNESTOGA. I will Sell the Yemassee land —

[^Sanutee leaps forward with uplifted tomahawk,
and rushes upon Occonestoga. Sir Edmund seizes
his arm.']

Sir Edmund. "Would you slay your own son ?

Sanutee. Hold me not! I will strike the slave — ■
I will strike his master !

[ Warriors rush forward and restrain Sanutee
Occonestoga flees from the hall. Sanutee finalli
sinks on his mat in a stupor."]

224 A SON OF THE YEMASSEE

Second Commissioner. Come, my brothers, we
will sign the treaty. You shall put your marks on
this parchment.

\_The traitorous Chiefs sign the treaty. Sanutee
seems not to see them.']

Third Commissioner. And now, in accordance
with your custom, my brothers, we will complete the
treaty with the sack of earth.

[5e takes a filled skin to Huspah, who rises
and holds the sack in his arms.]

Huspah. When this earth to you is given, so
will the treaty then be done — the lands that were
the Yemassee's will belong to his English brothers.
Take, then, this soil from Huspah.

\_Ile holds out the sack. As Sir Edmund ap-
proaches to take it, Sanutee rushes forward, seizes
the sack and hurls it to the ground.]

Sanutee. Our land shall not be sold by traitors !
Come, all chiefs faithful to Sanutee ! The Yemas-
see shall arise at our call ! The Yemassee will arise !

\_ire rushes from the hall, followed by the three
faithful chiefs.]

ACT III

Time : a few minutes later.

Place: interior of the council lodge of the Yemassee.

IThe doors are barred. The Indian Braves
and the English Commissioners are talking in some
confusion.]

A SON OP THE YEMASSEE 225

Second Commissioner. He will arouse the pfeople
against us! We must flee. Sir Edmund — we must
flee ! '

HusPAH. Sanutee cannot arouse the people. Hus-
pah is their well-beloved chief.

Third Commissioner {looking through crack in
door). Sanutee is addressing them now — he stands
on the mound by the river.

Metatchee. The Yemassee listen not to Sanutee.
Metatchee is their well-beloved chief.

Third Commissioner {as hefore). The crowd
grows larger every minute.

OoNALATCHiE. Soon they will scatter like leaves
in a storm. I am their well-beloved chief.

Third Commissioner (as before). The braves
grow excited — they shake their tomahawks — they
draw their knives —

Sarrataha. 'T is but a passing cloud. Sarrataha
is their well-beloved chief.

Third Commissioner. Another now takes Sanu-
tee's place ! 'T is the prophet, Enoree-Mattee !

Second Commissioner. He will excite them to
frenzy.

Third Commissioner. He stands as if inspired —
he is lifting his hands to Heaven — he speaks in a
fury —

[^Fierce yells are heard off.l

Sir Edmund. We are in great danger, friends.
We must barricade the door !

226 A SON OF THE YEMASSEE

Third Commissioner. Wait — the Grangers —
they are fleeing here for refuge !

\_HeJiings the door open. Enter Mr. and Mrs.
Granger, running. The door is quickly dosed and
barricaded.']

Sir Edmund. Did they threaten you, Mr. Gran-
ger?

Granger. No, but we thought it unsafe to re-
main in our lodge.

Mrs. Granger. The people are rising — it will
soon be a frenzied multitude.

Voices {off). Sangarrah, Sangarrah-me, Yemas-
see-Sangarrah !

Granger. 'T is their war cry !

Voices (nearer). Sangarrah, Sangarrah-me, Ye-
massee-Sangarrah !

Granger. They are advancing upon us !

Sir Edmund. The cries seem to come from every
quarter.

Mrs. Granger. They are surrounding the lodge !

\_The door is shaken ; there are blows on it from
without ; then cries and yells.]

Sanutee. Come forth, chiefs who betrayed us !
Come forth, traitors, come forth !

Voices. Traitors — traitors, come forth !

Manneywanto. There is death for me in their
cries — I will go forth to meet it, as becomes a brave
Yemassee chief.

HusPAH. Huspah will go to the hatchet.

A SON OF THEYEMASSEE 227

Metatcheb. Metatchee will go — there Is no other
way.

OoNALATCHiB. Oonalatchie will go — he fears not
the tomahawk.

Sakrataha. Sarrataha will go — he fears not.

\_They tear down the barricade and rush forth
with uplifted tomahawks. The English fasten the
door. Tells are heard, then silence. Pause.']

Sir Edmund. Alas — their fate is certain.

Granger. And so is ours, unless Sanutee inter-
fere.

Second Commissioner. That he will never do —
he was highly incensed.

Granger. He was angry because of the treaty.
Sanutee has a big soul ^ he has no spite for indi-
viduals.

[Yells and cries heard off.]

Voices. The English! The English! Come forth!
Come forth !

Mrs. Granger. They are surrounding us ! There
is no hope for us now !

\_Sharp knock at door.]

Sanutee. Sanutee would speak with the English.
Open — let him in.

Mrs. Granger. No — no — it is a trick !

Granger. Comes Sanutee to destroy us ?

Sanutee. No, Sanutee comes for peace.

Sir Edmund. Sanutee may come — no other.
i Sanutee. It is well.

228 A SON OF THE YEMASSEE

[^Granger opens the door slightly. Enter Saktt-
TEB. Granger closes and bars door.l

Sir Edmund (sternly). Why do your people sur-
round us ? Why do they bid us come forth ?

Sanuteb. The English have the lands of my peo-
ple, therefore my people hunt them.

SiK Edmumd. Your chiefs sold us the land. The
treaty was signed. The sack of earth was delivered.

Sanutee. The chiefs who sold are chiefs no
more.

Sir Edmund. Have you slain them ?

Sanuteb. They are dead to the Yemassee forever.
The arrow is being cut from their arms. We shall
know them no more. They are no longer of our
nation.

(Cries are heard in the distance.)

Hark ! They are being driven into the forest.

Sir Edmund. The English will protect them and
will punish their enemies. Beware, chief ! There is
danger in store for your people.

\_Ories and yells heard just without-l

Sanuteb. Does the white chief hear my people ?
They cry for blood — they would drink it from your
heart. But Sanutee is the friend of the English.
They shall not touch you — ^they shall do you no
harm.

Granger. Then why do they still surround us?

Sanuteb. They wait for the writing and for the
skin that holds the land of the Yemassee.

A SON OF THE YEMASSEE 229

SiE Edmund. Never, Sanutee, never ! We will
fight to the last ! We refuse to yield up the treaty.

Sanutee. It is well — it is well. The knife of the
Yemassee will dig for his land in the very heart of
the pale face.

[Exit.']

Granger (barring door). We may now prepare
for the worst.

Voices (off). Sangarrah-me, Sangarrah-me ! Ye-
massee-Sangarrah !

Granger (ZooHng' through crack indoor). They
bring torches ! They will burn the lodge over our
heads !

Second Commissioner. I pray you reconsider,
Sir Edmund ! Give them the sack of earth !

Third Commissioner. Throw it out to them,
sir, before it is too late !

Sir Edmund. No! I will defend it with my life!

Voices (off, fiercely). Sangarrah-me, Sangarrah!
Yemassee-Sangarrah !

e Granger. Do you hear that ? It is a cry for blood,
and it comes from a thousand voices ! Restore the
skin. Sir Edmund ! Give them the signed parchment !

Sir Edmund. No — I will be true to my trust.

[Mrs. Granger, unseen by the others, seizes the
parchment and the sack of earth ; crosses to door ;
opens it."]

Mrs. Granger. Sanutee ! the sack and the
parchment I

230 A SON OF THE YEMASSEE

[^She throws them out. Sir Edmund rushes for'
ward, but is too late.']

Sir Edmund. Woman — how dared you !

Mks. Granger. My life is precious to me, sir,
though you may be regardless of yours.

Sir Edmund. 'Twas a point of honor with me to
preserve the treaty to the last.

Mrs. Granger. The treaty is nothing to the
Yemassee now. To have kept it would have done
no good.

Granger. Their cries have ceased for the moment,
at least.

\_Enter Sanutee.]

Sanutee. It is well — the writing has been torn and
flung to the winds — the earth has been returned to
its own. The English will now go back to their vil-
lage ; the Yemassee will do them no hurt. Go —
linger not.

{JTie Commissioners start out. The Grangers
linger behind. Sanutee turns to them.)

Why does not Granger go also ?

Granger. I am willing to remain in my lodge
here in the land of the Yemassee. Sanutee is my
friend, and I am doing well with the fur trade.

Sanutee. Go — Sanutee is good friend to Granger,
but Sanutee says Go. There is fire and a knife
in the hand of the Yemassee. If Granger will not go,
look, the hatchet of Sanutee is ready.
{He raises his hatchet.)

A SON OF THE YEMASSEE 231

Sanutee will save Granger from the fire-death.
He will save Granger's wife also.

Granger. I understand — that is the last service
Sanutee can do his friends. We will go.

Sanutee. Sanutee will guide you to the river. Go
iill — quickly — go !

\^All go, Sanutee guarding them.']

ACT IV

Time : night of same day.

Place : interior of Sanutee's lodge.

\_The glare of a pine torch shows Matiwan lis-
tening to faint cries heard every now and then in
the distance.]

Matiwan. They still pursue him — my boy — •
Occonestoga ! [Pause.) Their cries grow fainter —
he has escaped them !

[She lifts her arms to Heaven.)

Great Spirit, Matiwan thanks thee ! Let him escape
his pursuers ! Great Spirit, Matiwan prays thee !

[The door is pushed open. Enter Occonestoga,
tired and worn.)

Occonestoga — you have come — you have come !

Occonestoga. They still pursue me !

Matiwan. They will track you here ! Fly, boy,
fly!

Occonestoga {sitting wearily). Occonestoga is
weary — he would welcome death.

232 A SON OF THE YEMASSEE

Matiwan. They seek not to slay.

OccoNESTOGA. Matiwan knows not. They found
where I hid from the wrath of Sanutee. They called
me to yield — I fled to the swamps — in the cold
damp and ooze I lay, long hours. Now they may
come — Occonestoga cares not to live.

Matiwan. They seek not to slay — they would
cut the arrow from your arm.

Occonestoga. What says Matiwan ? The arrow ?

Matiwan. The Yemassee have cast you out. They
would take the totem from you.

Occonestoga [springing up). They dare not!
They will not ! I will go with them upon the war
path. I will fight with them against the English. I
will lead the young warriors to battle. They shall
know Occonestoga once more for a brave chief.

Matiwan. It is too late — they have doomed you
with the chiefs who sold the land.

Occonestoga. Matiwan ! Say you do but talk to
frighten me ! Say Occonestoga may not be cast out !
Say that, Matiwan, and he will be in your hand even
as the torch that burns. Matiwan shall make him
what she will.

Matiwan. Matiwan cannot say it.

Occonestoga. I will bare my bosom to them.
They shall strike.

Matiwan. Did not those chiefs beg to die? The
Yemassee heard them not. They cut the totem from
them — they drove them into the forest.

A SON OF THE YEMASSEE 233

OccoNBSTOGA. Occonestoga will notlose the arrow
from his breast. He will still be a Yemassee.

Matiwan. Occonestoga can flee — that is all.
Matiwan knows. Go to the English ! Go — go —
Matiwan prays you, go !

[^Occonestoga stands for a moment as if stunned,
hanging his head. Suddenly he stands erect.]

Occonestoga. Is. Occonestoga an arrow that is
broken ? Has he no strength ? Has the blood gone
from his heart ? He will do battle against the Yem-
assee !

Matiwan [starting). A sound — some one comes !

[She peeps out through an opening in the log
wall.)

'Tis Sanutee! Come, boy, come! Matiwan will
hide you. Come !

[She leads Occonestoga to a corner where there
is a great pile of skins. He lies down ; she covers
him with the furs. Enter Sanutee. He throws him-
self on bearskin in center of lodge, scarcely notic-
ing Matiwan. Pause.)

Sanutee is weary.

Sanutee. Matiwan has said.
[Pause.]

Matiwan. Do they still pursue Occonestoga ?

Sanutee. They will pursue until they take.

Matiwan. He may escape to the English.

Sanutee. 'T will but drag his days out for a moon
or two.

234 A SON OF THE YEMASSEE

Mati wan. The Yemassee will descend on the white
man, then ?

Sanutbb. The Yemassee will destroy him utterly.
With tomorrow's sun we take the trail again.

{Pause. Samctee suddenly turns toward the pile
of skins.)

Those skins there will be useful. How many are
there, Matiwan?

Matiwan. Some fifteen in all, Sanutee, chief.

Sanutbe. Matiwan forgets — there are more than
fifteen. Sanutee will count for himself.
{_IIe rises.l
Matiwan. Sit, Sanutee ! Wherefore should not
Matiwan look? The toil of the lodge is for Matiwan.

{_She crosses quickly to skins and begins to
tumble them about."]

Sanutbe. Sanutee will look — the bearskin is
heavy on your hands.

Matiwan. No — look not! You are weary, chief —
your feet need rest. Matiwan is here — why should
you stir ?

Sanutee. Matiwan is good, but Sanutee is not
weary with toil. He but took the English to the be-
ginning of their land. No — Sanutee will look with
the eye that is true.

\_IIe crosses to skins. Matiwan clasps her hands
in terror. Sanutee puts his hand on the skins. A
confused, wild approaching clamor is heard. San-
utee lisf ;ns. Pause. Noise heard nearer.]

A SON OF THE YEMASSEE 235

Voices (without). Sangarrah-tne, Sangarrah-me,
Yemassee-Sangarrah !

{Sanutee crosses ; opens door.)

Occonestoga ! Occonestoga! He is here — he is
here !

Sanutee. No, Occonestoga is not in the lodge of
Sanutee. Enter — search — see.

[^Enter many Braves. Occonestoga rises from
his hiding place and springs into center of room,
grasping his tomahawk in his hand.']

Braves. Occonestoga ! Occonestoga !

Sanutee. Traitor to the Yemassee !

[fie approaches Occonestoga ; the Braves fall
hack. Occonestoga lifts his arm to strike at San-
utee. Matiwan screams. Occonestoga shudders,
drops his arm, letting tomahawk fall to ground.]

Occonestoga. Occonestoga will not strike at San-
utee. Matiwan shall see —

\_Occonestoga stands proudly waiting. The Braves
seize him and hurry him from lodge. Sanutee foU
lows, grim and silent.]

Matiwan {moaning). 'T was the poison of the
white man! Occonestoga — my boy — my boy —
my boy !

EVANGELINE

ACT I

Time: 1713 ; an autumn morning.
Place: Benedict Belief ontain^ s farm, near the vil-
lage of Grand Pre, in Acadia, Nova Scotia.

Benedict Bellefontaine.

Evangeline, his Daughtek.

Basil Lajeunesse.

Gabriel, his Son.

Father Felician, the Village Priest.

Rene Leblanc, Notary.

Baptiste, his Son.

Michael, a Fiddler.

Commander of British Troops.
First Woman. Fifth Girl.

Second Woman. First Youth.

First Girl. Second Youth.

Second Girl. Third Youth.

Third Girl. Fourth Youth.

Fourth Girl. Soldiers.

Villagers.

\_A meadow is seen. Many Acadian Youths
and Maidens are making a bower of tree branches.]

First Girl. We must hasten, or the betrothal
will be over.

EVANGELINE 237

First Youth. There — our part is done ! Every
branch is now in place.

Second Youth. But the chains of roses — ?

Second Girl. They are ready now !

l^Girls and Touths festoon the bower with the
chains ofroses.^

Third Girl (looking off). Look! They are
coming ! The betrothal is over !

All. They are coining ! They are coming I

Third Youth. There are Benedict and Basil I

Fourth Youth. And the notary !

Fourth Girl. And Father Felician !

Fifth Girl. And — look! — Evangeline and Ga-
briel !

First Girl. Evangeline is beautiful in her wed-
ding gown !

Second Girl. See her gold ear-rings !

Third Girl. They were her great-great-great-
grandmother's, and came from France !

First Youth. Sh ! They come !

[Enter the procession, Benedict, Basil, Een:6
Le Blanc, Father Felician, Evangeline, and
Gabriel.]

Girls [showering flowers). Evangeline ! Evange-
line !

Youths [showering flowers). Gabriel ! Gabriel !

[Evangeline and Gabriel stand in bower. Enter
Michael with his violin.l
. Benedict. Music, Michael ! Play as thou hast

238 EVANGELINE

never played before ! The whole village will be our
guests today, and we will all make merry !

\_Michael plays. The Girls and Youths join
hands and circle around the bower. Enter the
Villagers, men, women, and children.']

Villagers {shoioering flowers). Evangeline ! Ga-
briel ! Evangeline !

[ They join hands and circle around the bower.
Enter Baptists, running.']

Baptists. Hold! Silence ! Silence, I say!
\_All stand still, astonished.]

Notary. Why, what, Baptiste ? Speak !

Baptists. English ships have entered the har-
bor and have, pointed their cannon against us !

Benedict. What can that mean? We are at peace
with ourselves and the world.

Notary. True, but we would not acknowledge
the claim of the English in our land. They may
come to punish us !

Baptists. There is great fear in the village ! Many
say we shall be forced to swear allegiance to the
English king. And many have fled to the forests
for dread of whatm^ happen.

Benedict. It must be some friendly purpose that
brings these ships to our shores. Perhaps the har-
vests in England have been blighted, and they would
purchase from our bursting stores.

Baptists. Not so think the folk in the village !

Basil. And not so think I !

EVANGELINE 239

Villagers. Nor I !

Father Felician. Imagine not evil intentions,
my children.

Benedict. No, nor fear them ! Come, be merry !
Let no shadow of sorrow fall on this betrothal today !

Basil. Benedict, thou art always as happy as if
every day thou hadst picked up a horse-shoe. But I
am not content. I will go to the shore and find out
what I may.

Gabriel. I will go with thee, father.

Evangeline. Gabriel — stay !

Gabriel. Nay, Evangeline, if danger threatens,
I must know — the Better to protect thee!

Evangeline. My father fears nothing ; Father
Felician bids us think no evil. Come, Gabriel, join
in the danoe, and be thou as happy as if thou hadst
just picked up a horse-shoe thyself.

Gabriel. Nay, I must go.

Baptiste. I will go with thee !

Basil. Then come !

\Th,ey go quichly.']

Benedict. Let not this interruption trouble you,
my friends. We have done no wrong and need fear
no one. Let the dance go on ! I myself will stand by
the bride. Play, Michael !

[He stands in the Ijower with Evangeline. Michael
■plays. The dancers circle around the bower with
shouts and laughter. Papse. Enter Basil, Gabriel,
and Baptiste, running.l

240 EVANGELINE

Basil. Silence ! Cease thy merriment !
[2%e 7nitsic and the dancing cease.l

Gabeiel. Soldiers are coming from the ships and
are marching now upon us !

Baptiste. Prepare to defend yourselves !

Notary. The only weapons amongst us are Mi-
chael's violin and my pen, which just now wrote the
contract.

Basil. Hast thou no arms in the house, Bene-
dict?

Benedict. Nothing.

Father Felician. 'T is well. Better peace at any
price than bloodshed.

\^E7iter English Soldiers and Commander.]

Commander. Villagers of Grand Pre, in the name
of your King, I now address you ! {Holding up a
paper with seals.) Here is the royal commission !
And this is the message his Majesty sends: The
royal heart is grieved that you, his children, deeded
to him by the treaty with France, do stubbornly re-
fuse to take the oath of allegiance. The royal patience
is exhausted. Therefore, his Majesty orders you to
deliver up to him your farms, and dwellings, and
cattle of all kinds ; and lastly — that you yourselves
go forth to other lands.

[Pause. The Acadians are speechless with hor-
'ror.']

Benedict. Give up our homes — go forth to for-
eign lands !

EVANGELINE 241

Commander. Aye, and at once. Our ships are
here to transport you.

Notary. Where?

Commander. Some here — some there.
[^Acadians cry out in sorrow and anger."]

A Woman. Separate us from our friends ?

Second Woman. And relatives ?

Commander. That is his Majesty's order.

Basil. Down with the tyrants of England !

Gabriel. Death to these foreign soldiers !

Villagers. Aye ! Aye ! Down with them ! Down
with them !

\_They rush at Soldiers, who present their bayo-
nets.]

Commander. Men of Grand Pre, I order you un-
der arrest !

Gabriel. Down with them !

Baptists. Down with them !

Basil. Fear not their bayonets ! At them, men !

Villagers. At them ! At them !

[ The Soldiers raise (heir guns to fire.]

Father Felician. My children, what' madness
hath seized you ! Forty years have I labored among
you and taught you to love one another. Is this the
fruit of my toils, of my prayers and my privations ?
Have you so soon forgotten the lessons of love and
forgiveness ? What is the prayer that your hearts
should cry out in the hour when the wicked assail ?
l_Pause.]

242 EVANGELINE

Evangeline {kneeling). Father, forgive theml

Father Felician. Kneel, my children, and repeat
those words.

\_Paiise ; the Acadians yield to the Priest's in-
fluence and kneel in prayer.']

Acadians. Father, forgive them !

ACT II

Time : five days later.

Place : seashore of Grand Pre.

Benedict. A Youth.

Evangeline. First Woman.

Basil. Second Woman.

Gabriel. Third Woman.

Father Felician. Fourth Woman.

Rene Le Blanc. First Sailor.

Baptiste. Second Sailor.

Michael. First Acadian.

British Commander. Second Acadian.

A Girl. Third Acadian.
Villagers, Soldiers, Sailors.

[Women and Children are seen waiting on
ihe shore. Near them are piles of luggage. Enter
many W6mbn and Children with household
goods.']

A Woman. Look back on our homes no\?, my
children!

EVANGELINE 243

Second Woman. Look back on our fields and
our meadows !

Third Woman. Look back on our beautiful vil-
lage ! Oh, the tyrants of England !

\_Shakes her fist at the English ships out at sea,
then begins to sob. Enter Evangeline.]

First Woman {to Evangeline). Is there no word
from thy father, or from Gabriel ?

Evangeline. Nothing, nothing but silence.

Second Woman. Five suns have risen since the
men were imprisoned in the church.

Third Woman {still sobbing). Five suns since
we have spoken with them!

Evangeline. And five suns since we were or-
dered here — to be transported — whither we know
not, nor what cruel fate is in store for us.
\^Drum,s are heard off.'\

Third Woman {looking off). 'T is our men !
They are marching them here !

\_Enter Father Felician Und Acadian Men,
Soldiers guarding them.']

Men {chanting). " Sacred heart of the Saviour !
inexhaustible fountain ! Fill our hearts this day
with strength and submission and patience ! "

Women {chanting). " Sacred heart of the Saviour!
inexhaustible fountain ! Fill our hearts this day
with strength and submission and patience ! "
!*.■* \^Enter the Commander.]

OAmmandbr. Acadians, know that this task to

244 EVANGELINE

me is painful and most grievous. Yet must I bow
and obey, and complete tbe will of our august
monarch. Tbe ships are ready — you must embark.

\_Exit. Enter many Sailors, who seize goods
and Children and then the elder AcadiansJ]

Sailors. Come ! Come !

\_There is great confusion. The Sailors hurry
away many of the Acadians.']

First Woman. They have taken my child I They
have taken my child !

Second Woman. They have taken my husband !
I am alone !

First Acadian. Where is my son? Pierre!
Pierre ! Where art thou ?

Second Acadian. They have taken my old
mother ! She cannot live without my care !

Third Acadian. Jeanne ! Jeanne ! Where art
thou? Have they taken my daughter? Have you
seen my Jeanne ? Jeanne !

A Girl. Father-! Father! Where art thou?
Father !

A Youth. Sister ! Sister I Sister Madeleine !

[Enter Sailors, who seize luggage and Children
as before.]

Sailors. Come ! Come !

Basil (seizing a Sailor). Take that woman to
her child !

Gabriel {to another Sailor). Take that father
to his daughter.

" SEE THE SMOKE AND THE FLASHES OF FLAJIE ! "

246 EVANGELINE

Baptiste {to First Sailor). You have taken a
feeble old woman. She is this young man's mother.
Take him to her !

First Sailor. 'T is impossible ! That ship is
sailing now.

Second Sailor (to Baptiste). Now 'tis your
turn. Come ! Come !

\_£Jxit with Baptiste.']

Basil. Down with the tyrants ! Down with them !
Down with them !

Acadians. Down with them !

\_They rush toward Soldiers, who level guns. \

Father Felician. Peace, my children, peace ! Be
resigned to the will of Heaven !

\_The Acadians again yield to the Priest.]

Evangeline. What is that light from the village,
father ? See the smoke and the flashes of flame !
What is it, Gabriel ?

Benedict. They are burning our homes ! The
homes of our boyhood ! The homes of our wives and
our children ! Our homes — our homes —

\_He falls. Evangeline and the Priest Tcneel he-
side him. There is great confusion. Sailors con-
tinue to seize goods and to hurry off the Acadians,
among them Basil and Gabriel.]

Evangeline. Father ! Speak to me ! Father !
Father!

Father Felician. He will not speak again, child.

Evangeline. He is dead ? Dead ? Gabriel ! Ga-

EVANGELINE 247

briel ! {Pause. To Priest.) Has he too been taken,
Father ?

Father Fblician. Yes —

Evangeline. Gabriel gone — No ! No ! Gabriel !
— Oh, I cannot bear it !

Father Fblician (placing his hand on her head)
Thou shalt not bear it alone, Evangeline.

ACT III

Time : Jive years later ; spring.

Place : Louisiana ; the garden ofBasiVs home on
the hanks of the Teche River.

Evangeline. First Boatman.

Gabriel. Second Boatman.

Basil. First Herdsman.

Father Felician. Second Herdsman.

Michael. Third Herdsman.

Herdsmen and Acadian Exiles.

[^Spanish Herdsmen are seen resting. Apart
from them, silent and sad, sits Gabriel. Enter
Michael with his violin.']

Michael. Shall I play while you take your noon-
day rest ?

Herdsmen. Yes, play !

[Enter Basil, unseen hy the others.]

First Herdsman. Play that Spanish love song I
sang for you yesterday.

Herdsmen. Yes ! Yes !

248 EVANGELINE

Gabriel. No, no, Michael ! I pray you not to
play that !

Sbcoito Herdsman. Play, then, that Spanish war
song.

Third Herdsman. Yes, yes ! I like to hear how
the Spanish fought the Indians and took their
homes and conquered them.

Gabriel. No — no — I beg you, Michael.

Basil. Go to another place and play, Michael,
Go, lads, and follow him. Then sing your love
songs and your war songs till 'tis time to work
again.

{The Herdsmen go with Michael.)

Thou art sad, my son.

Gabriel. I am always sad, father.

Basil. Canst thou not be contented here in our
new home ? We have prospered in spite of our exile.
Thou hast much to make thee happy.

Gabriel. Happy — when I know not where
Evangeline is !

Basil. True — we have sought her far and wide,
but in vain. Would that we knew where our Aca-
dians were landed ! Far apart, I fear, on separate
coasts — scattered like flakes of snow before a wind
from the northeast.

Gabriel. Blown from the North to the South,
friendless, homeless, hopeless.

Basil. I have ever befriended all who came
here.

EVANGELINE 249

Gabriel. Aye, father, thou hast ; and thou hast
listened with sobs to their tales of despair;

Basil. 'T is heart-rending to hear of those who
died by the wayside.

Gabriel. But what of those who wander still?
What of Evangeline? What fate has overtaken her ?
Does she wander cheerless and in want ? Or has her
spirit ceased to be ?

\_Pause. Gabriel broods sadly.'\

Basil. Gabriel, perhaps it would be better shouldst
thou go forth from here. Our life is so quiet; it
gives thee too much time to brood. Suppose thou
takest men and goest to the western wilds to hunt
for furs.

Gabriel. It might be well.

Basil. Get Indians on the way and then take the
trail to the mountains.

Gabriel. But thou wilt be alone, father.

Basil. I cannot bear thy unhappiness. I think
this trip will help thee — thou shouldst go at
once.

Gabriel. My boat is at the landing now, but the
boatmen take their noonday rest.

Basil. Lie here, then, and sleep. When the heat
has gone, I will return. Then thou canst depart.

Gabriel. As thou wilt, father.

\Basil goes. Gabriel lies behind bushes and
.sleeps. Pause. Enter Father Pelician and Evan-
geline.]

250 EVANGELINE

Father Felician. We will rest here for a little
while.

Evangeline. Basil's house cannot be far away.

Father Felician. Here we should find Gabriel,
if the rumor that has led us hither be true. But
rest thou must, for thou art tired.

Evangeline (sitting). After all these long years
jf seeking!

Father Felician. But fix not your heart on it,
child. Remember the disappointments of our search
— ever led hither and thither by the vaguest of
whispers and rumors.

Evangeline. I remember that thou hast wandered
with me. But there was always a hearsay to point
and beckon us forward. And then, sometimes, we
did chance upon those who had seen Gabriel and
thought to direct us truly.

Father Felician. This journey may be like the
others, child.

Evangeline. Oh, but Father Felician, something
says in my heart that Gabriel is at last near me. Is
it a foolish dream, an idle and vague superstition?
Or has an angel passed and revealed the truth to
my soul ?

Father Felician. Trust to your heart, maid,
and to what the world calls illusions. I, too,, think
that Gabriel is near.

{Enter a Herdsman.)

Sir, can you tell us if Basil Lajeunesse lives near?

EVANGELINE 251

Herdsman. Yonder is Basil's house — he lives
there with his son Gabriel. I will guide you thither,
if you will.

Father Fblician. Lead on — we will follow.

Evangeline. At last — at last !

[They go. Gabriel awakens ; rises and crosses
to river hank.']

Gabriel {calling down). Still sleeping, lads ?

Boatman (off). Nay, nay!

Gabriel. Then leave your boat ; I 'd speak with
you.

(Pause. Enter two Spanish Boatmen.)

I wish to journey westward, men. We '11 leave at
once.

First Boatman. With no farewells to your
father ?

Gabriel. 'T is better so. Farewells but make
the parting harder.

Second Boatman. There are many here who are
your friends. Will you not say good-bye to them ?

Gabriel. No, no, I cannot! Come, let's away.
Come ! Come !

"[He goes; the Boatmen follow. Pause. The
Herdsmen sing, off. Enter Basil with Evangeline
and Father Felician.]

Basil. I left him here !

[He goes to hank and looks over.)

The boat is gone — and the boatmen ! Why, then,
Gabriel has gone !

252 EVANGELINE

Evangeline. Gone ! Is Gabriel gone?

Basil. Be of good cheer, my child. We will fol-
low this runaway lover. The winds and the waves
are against him today, so we need not go till to-
morrow.

\_Enter Micilael and many Acadians.]

All. Father Felician ! Evangeline ! Welcome !

Basil. Yes, welcome once more, my friends, who
so long have been friendless and homeless. Welcome
once more to a home and the love of your fellow
Acadians !

All. Welcome ! Welcome ! Welcome !

Basil. And now comes the evening meal, with
music and talk and rejoicing. Come, friends, come !
\_Exit all hut Evangeline.]

Evangeline {with joy). Gabriel! Gabriel! At
last ! Soon I shall see thee ! — hear thy voice and
thy laughter ! Father, I thank thee — I thank thee !

ACT IV

Time : six weeks later.

Place : woodland at the base of the Ozarh Mountains,
near a mission village.

Gabriel. Second Nun.

Evangeline. Third Nun.

Basil. Indian Girl.

Baptiste. First Indian.

First Nun. Second Indian.

EVANGELINE 253

A Teappee. First Boatman.

A Spanish Heedsman. Second Boatman.

Nuns, Trappers, and Hunters.

[Gabriel and a Boatman are seen hy a camp-Jire.]

Gabriel. Our companion lias been gone some
time.

First Boatman. The Indians were perhaps deep
in the forest.

lEnter the Second Bo atmats, followed by two
young Indians.]

Gabriel. What luck, comrade ?

Second Boatman. These two Indians will guide
you, master.

Gabriel. You, then, may return.

First Boatman. What message shall we take to
your father ?

Gabriel. Say I have gone into the western wilds.

Second Boatman. Is there no word of your re-
turn — when it shall be ?

Gabriel. Well, in the autumn, I thiijk. Yes, it
will be in the autumn. Good-bye, comrades. Speak
words of good cheer to my father.

Boatman. Aye ! Aye ! Farewell, master.

[Exit Boatmen. Enter a party of Hunters and
Trappers, among them Baptists.]

A Trapper. Here is a good place to rest, lads !

All. Aye, it is.

\_They throw themselves on the ground.']

254 EVANGELINE

Baptiste. Gabriel !

Gabriel. Baptiste !

{They grasp hands.)

My friend, my friend, I feared we should never
meet again.

Baptists. Long have I sought thee !

Gabriel. Hast thou heard nothing of Evange-
line?

Baptiste. Nothing.

Gabriel. Not one word ? Not a whisper, even ?

Baptists. Nothing. It must be, her ship went
down.

Gabriel. It must be so — it must be so.

{Pause. Gabriel is lost in gloomy brooding. A
church bell rings. He starts.)

The bell of her sinking ship ! Baptiste ! Speak !
Am I dreaming?

Baptists. 'Tis the bell of a Mission in the valley
there, and 't is ringing the Sisters in to prayers.
Come with us, Gabriel ! We go north to trap and
hunt for furs. Come with us !

Gabriel. I wish I might, but my plans were made
to go westward.

Baptists. Oh, but come with us ! Alone, thou
wilt sink into gloom, and ever be hearing that toll-
ing bell. Come with us, Gabriel ! Come !

Gabriel. Well, I will. It does not matter now
where I go. Wilt thou return in ihe autumn ?

Baptiste. No, we expect to be north a year or

EVANGELINE 255

two. We will return by a shorter route these trap-
pers know.

Gabriel. 'T is well. I care not when I return, nor
by what route. ( To Indians.) One guide will be
sufficient now.

\_The First Indian nods and steps bach-l

Baptiste. Come, lads — we' 11 go at once !
[^All go but First Indian. Enter an Indian Girl.]

Girl. Brother — look ! The Nuns from the mis-
sion!

\Enter a procession of Nuns.]

First Nun. Friends, can you tell us where herbs
are most plentiful ?

Girl. On the western slope of that wooded hill.

Second Nun. Will you not guide us thither, maid?

Girl. No, no — I dare not! 'T is there the dreaded
phantom hides !

TmRD Nun. Phantom ? What do you mean ?

Girl. The Phantom Bridegroom, he who once
came to an Indian maid with words of love and en-
dearment. She followed him there, and never re-
turned, and was never more seen by her people.

Indian. 'T is a legend told and repeated ; we are
warned from that hillside.

First Nun. No harm can come to those who
fear none. Sisters, we will go.

\_The Nuns go, chanting softly^

Indian. I '11 watch from afar.

\_Exit. The Girl reclines behind bushes. Pause.

256 EVANGELINE

Enter Basil, Evangeline, a Herdsman, and the
Boatmen.]

Evangeline. He is not here !

Basil. You left him here, you say ?

Boatmen. Aye!

Evangeline {calling). Gabriel ! Gabriel !
\_Pause.'\

Basil {calling). Gabriel ! Gabriel !
[Pawse.J

Evangeline. Alas ! He is ever just before us !
No matter where we stop — camp-fire, cabin, way-
side inn, — he has just gone.

Basil. We will find him yet ! Despair not, Evan-
geline. ( To Boatmen.) You say he went westward ?

First Boatman. Aye, with Indian guides and
horses.

Basil. We'll pursue him then, at once !

Second Boatman. Horses must first be got, and
provisions, and Indian guides. That will take many
days, sir.

Basil. Yes, that is true.

Herdsman. He will have such a start, I fear we
cannot overtake him.

Evangeline. Like a phantom he ever eludes us!

Indian Girl {rising). Your phantom lover is
there, maid, there on yonder wooded hill !

Evangeline. There!

Girl. Aye ! Go now, and you will catch a glimpse
of him.

EVANGELINE 257

Evangeline. Come, Basil, come ! Do you hear ?
Gabriel is there — near us ! We '11 see him soon !
We '11 touch his hand ! We '11 hear his voice ! Come,
Basil, come !

Girl. Nay, you will not touch him, maid, nor
will you ever speak with him. He will vanish as he
did from our Lilinau !

Evangeline. What do you say? I will never
speak with him ?

Girl. Lilinau heard him whispering through the
pines in the hush of the twilight. Then she followed
him, followed him, followed him ; he ever eluding
her, ever before. To yon wooded hill she followed
his plumes, and was never more seen by her people.

Herdsman. T is only an Indian legend ! I 've
heard the tale before.

Evangeline. 'T is a prophecy : it foretells my own
fate!

{Enter the Nvss, followed hy an Indian.]

First Nun. Will you not rest in our Mission,
strangers ?

Basil. We seek my son, who has gone to the
west. But here, I find, we must return. To follow
him now is impossible.

Evangeline. Comes he not back in the autumn,
boatmen ?

First Boatman. So he said, and by this way !

Evangeline. I would stay with you till that time,
Sisters. I pray you let me remain !

258 EVANGELINE

First Nun. You are welcome, most welcpme.

Basil. 'Tis well, thou wilt be better satisfied
here, Evangeline. Let us tell the sisters your story.
[He and Evangeline talk aside with the Nuns.']

Indian {to Girl). The lad went northward, not
westward, as these strangers say. Neither will he
return this way, but by another route, and not till
two autumns more have passed.

Girl. You must not tell them ! It is the Phan-
tom she pursues ! EvU will come to us if we intw-
fere ! Come ! Come !

[They run into the forest.]

Evangeline. Farewell, Basil, my friend ! Fare-
well, companions of our voyage! Farewell till the
autumn ! I will return with Gabriel;

Basil. Farewell, Evangeline !

Boatmen. Farewell ! Farewell !

[Evangeline goes with the Nuns. The Mission
hell rings. Basil and Men remove their hats and
stand with howed heads.]

ACT V

TmE : thirty years later.

Place : Philadelphia ; the garden of a hospital.

Evangeline.
DocTOK. First Nukse.

Gabriel. Second Nurse.

Nurses and Patients.

EVANGELINE 259

\_Cots ^tand among the vines and shrubbery. The
DocTOK and Nubsbs are attending the patients.
Enter Evangeline with flowers. She wears the
garb of a Sister of Mercy. Her face is thin and
pale.]

Doctor. You cannot visit here today, Evange-
line ; there is contagious fever. These patients are
all victims of it.

Evangeline. I do not fear.

Doctor. You must not risk your life.

Evangeline. The only joy my poor life knows is
to minister unto others.

Doctor. Ah, but some day you will find Ga-
briel.

Evangeline. My search is ended — Gabriel is
not — else I would have found him.

Doctor. You have no further clue ? — you have
sought everywhere ?

Evangeline.' In the depths of forests, in camps,
in battlefields among the slain, in secluded hamlets,
in towns, in great cities — everywhere that he had
been, but always — he was not there.

Doctor. And yet — it may be —

Evangeline. No — I was young and strong when
in hope I began the journey. Now I am faded and
old —

Doctor. Not to those whom you help. Night
after night, when the world is asleep, I find you
'. nursing in some wretched place.

260 EVANGELINE

First Nurse. And day after day in the gray of
the dawn I see her come home from her watchings.

Second Nurse. Wherever is sorrow and want
and disease, there is Evangeline.

Evangeline. Then let me devote myself to these
sufferers here. Permit me to enter — I pray you.
[Pawse.J

Doctor. Enter, Evangeline.

\_^va)igeline goes to cots, soothing foreheads of
the patients, and leaving flowers. Suddenly she
stops and gazes long and earnestly at a dying man,
whose hair is thin and gray.']

Evangeline. Gabriel !

{Gabriel looks at her for a moment, as if waked
from a dream ; his lips move silently, as he strives
to speak her name and cannot. She raises his
head in her arms.)

Gabriel ! my beloved !

THE TREASON OF BENEDICT ARNOLD

General Benedict Abnold, in command of West

Point.
Major John Andre, a British Officer.
Colonel Livingston, Commandant at Vebplanck's

Point.
Colonel Jameson, Commandant at North Castle.
Major Tallmadgb, an Officer in the American

Army.
General George Washington.

ColonelHamilton, j AiDESTO General Washington,
Major McHenry, )
General Lafayette.
General Knox.

Major Varick, j ^^^^^ ^^ General Arnold.

Major Franks, )

Lieutenant Allen, Aide to Colonel Jameson.

John Paulding, J

Isaac Van Wart, > Patriot Farmers.

David Williams, )

First Officer.

Second Officer.

Third Officer.

Aide to Colonel Livingston.

First Aide.

Second Aide.

Third Aide.

Joshua Smith, a Patriot.

Samuel CoLQUHON, j ^^^^^ Boatmen.

Joseph Colquhon,

262 THE TREASON OF BENEDICT ARNOLD

Captain of the Guaed.

A Sergeant.

Servant to Major Andr£.

Mrs. Arnold.

United States Officers and Soldiers ; Servants.

ACT I

Time : T780, afternoon of September 20th.
Place : VerplancKs Point, Hudson River ; the Com
mandant's quarters.

[C*L^ssBL-Livi^«t»Te» mid three Officeks are
seen looking out a window. Each Officer has a
field glass.li

Colonel. 'T is a British man-of-war !

Others. Aye !

Colonel. I sighted her a half -hour ago ! She 'a
coining up deliberately.

First Officer. What can be her errand here ?
Does she mean to attack us?

Colonel. I have sent word to General Arnold
at West Point. I asked him to send us cannon at
once, and I reminded him of our one four-pounder.

Second Officer. Look ! She 's hauling in her
sails ! What does that mean, Colonel Livingston ?

Colonel. She 's anchored ! And within easy
range of our guns !

Second Officer. I can make out her name now,
perfectly — the Vulture.

THE TREASON OF BENEDICT ARNOLD 263

Third Officer. Yes — The Vulture! She be-
longs to the British fleet at New York.

Colonel. How dare she come so close to our
forts ! 'T is a piece of Britisfc impudence !

First Officer. Perhaps it's to test the strength
of our batteries along the river to West Point.

Second Officer. The British have long had
their eye on West Point.

Third Officer. They realize that it is the key-
stone of our country.

Colonel. Well, we '11 give that ship a taste of
our strength if the cannon arrive on time.

First Officer. Do you mean to frighten her,
Colonel, into dropping down the river ?

Colonel. I mean to sink her if I can.
{Enter an Aide ; he salutes Colonel Livingston.)

Well? What did General Arnold say ? How soon
will the cannon be here ?

Aide. General Arnold regrets that he cannot send
you the cannon, Colonel.

Colonel. Cannot send ! Why not ?
3 Aide. He says it is not in his power to send can-
non away from West Point.

Colonel. But did you explain that a British ship
is approaching our fort ?

Aide. Yes, Colonel Livingston, I repeated your
message exactly.

Colonel. Did you make it clear that we have only
one four-pounder ?

264 THE TREASON JOF BENEDICT ARNOLD

AiBB. I explained that fully, Colonel.

CoLOKEL. Eeturn\to West Point immediately.
Tell General Arnold t|at this ship has now anchored
in full view of our foit. He will understand from
that the necessity for listant action. Go at once.
{The Aide salMes and turns to go.)

Wait — I will writff General Arnold, that there
may be no misunderfltanding. You will take my
letter with you. '

[Exit Colonel Livingston and Aide.']

FiKST Officer. 'Twas a flimsy excuse Arnold
gave, my friends.

Others. Aye.

Second Officer. It has always seemed strange
to me that Arnold was given the command of West
Point.

Third Officer. Oh, that was because of his splen-
did record in the field.

First Officer. True, but look how he was dis-
graced by Congress because of his misuse of public
funds. He came very near being dismissed from the
service.

Second Officer. Very near — but his only pun-
ishment was a reprimand from Washington. Congress
let him off easy, I say.

First Officer. Yes, but it was a question whether
Arnold had really misused the money. It was never
proved against him. And then, General Washington
felt that it never would have happened butf or Arnold's

THE TREASON OF BENEDICT ARNOLD 265

love of pomp and show, which led him into extrava-
gance.

Second Offiobe. Yes, I have heard his Excellency
say that Arnold's nobler qualities far outweighed
his failings.

Third Officer. Which side of his nature will
prevail in the end ? He is proud and vain and re-
vengeful.

First Officer. He certainly showed those qual-
ities during his trial by court-martial. He magnified
his own services to the country and cast reproach
upon some of the purest men in the army.

Second Officer. Oh, that was all a game on his
part to get his debts paid by Congress.

Third Officer. Well, he failed in that, though
there were many who supported him.

First Officer. He will never forgive his oppo-
nents. He is bitter. Did n't he at once grow sullen
and indifEerent to public afEairs ?

Second Officer. He did — he refused to go to
the field, though General Washington offered him
a post of honor.

Third Officer. I believe he gave an old wound
as his excuse.

First Officer. Yes — and then suddenly forgot
his wound ; declared he was eager to rejoin his old
comrades — eager to serve his country !

Second Officer. Very eager — he specified the
service, you remember. He was determined to have

266 THE TREASON OF BENEDICT ARNOLD

the command at West Point. In fact, he not only
asked General Washington himself, but had others
intercede in his behalf. That I know for a cer-
tainty.

Third Officer. I could never understand why
he was so anxious for that post. It gives him no
chance for activity.

First Officer. He saw a chance to line his own
pockets, perhaps.

Third Officer. But how? The salary is insig-
nificant.

First Officer. That is why I am suspicious
about his trying so hard to get it.
\_Enter Aide.]

Aide. Colonel Livingston ?

Second Officer {looking off ). He's coming
now.

l^Enter Colonel Livingston.]

Colonel. You have General Arnold's reply ?

Aide. An oral answer, only, Colonel. General
Arnold regrets that it is beyond his power to send
cannon as you request.

Colonel. Beyond his power?

Aide. So he said.

Colonel. Beyond bis power to drive the enemy
from our shores !

Aide. He did not seem to think the situation
serious.

Colonel. Officers, I shall fire upon that ship with-

THE TREASON OF BENEDICT ARNOLD 267

out authority and with our one four-pounder. I as-
sume all responsibility.

First Officer. Colonel Livingston, I am with
you, heart and soul !

Other Officers. And I !

ACT II

Time : September W, 1780 — night.
Place : west shore of the Hudson River, about six
miles below Stony Point.

[General Arnold is seen alone on the shore.
He wears a cloak over his uniform. Pause. Miter
Joshua Smith, an American citizen and land
owner.']

Smith. They will not come, General Arnold.

Arnold, You will get other boatmen then, Mr.
Smith.

Smith. That is impossible, General. These two-
men are my tenants, else I had not dared to ask
them.

Arnold. Why do they refuse to go ?

Smith. They say they are afraid of the ven-
ture'

Arnold. Have you any fear of it, Mr. Smith?

Smith. None whatever, General Arnold. You have
told me that some one on that ship is to bring you
jinformatiori from the enemy. Why, then, should I
hesitate to help you ?

268 THE TREASON OP BENEDICT ARNOLD

Arnold. Have the boatmen any suspicion as to
who I am ?

Smith. No, General. I told them you were a
merchant, as you bade me.

Arnold. Bring them to me. There is not a mo-
ment to be lost.

[^Exit Smith. Arnold walks up and down impa-
tiently. Enter Smith with Samuel and Joseph

CoLQUHON.]

Smith. They still refuse, sir.

Arnold. Why, what is the matter, friends? I
have permission to speak with another merchant now
on that ship. He is to be brought ashore for that
purpose.

Joseph. Who gave you this permission, stranger?

Arnold. General Arnold. Here is the pass he
gave me for this merchant, who is a Mr. John An-
derson of New York.

[^Boatmen look at pass carefully.']

Samuel. Stranger, that ship out there is British,
and we are loyal Americans.

Arnold. That pass will take you through, my
men.

Joseph. But it won't insure us from being cap-
tured by those British sailors.

Arnold. You are to take a flag of truce ; I have
General Arnold's order.

Samuel. Just let us see your order, sir.

Joseph. Aye, stranger, we must see your order.

THE TREASON OF BENEDICT ARNOLD 269

Abnold. The pass is sufficient. Come, you shall
name your, own price.

Samuel. It's not the price — it's the feeling, as
Americans, that we have against it. We can't see
our way to oblige you, sir.

\_They start off.']

Arnold {throwing hack his cloak). Stay !

Boatmen. General Arnold !

Aknold. I no longer ask you to go — I command
you. Mr. Smith, here is a letter to be presented to
the captain of the ship. (Aside to Smith.) I caution
you to muffle your oars.

(Smith nods and goes with Boatmen. Long
pause. Arnold walks hack and forth, starting at
every sound. Enter Smith and Major John An-
dre, ^oho wears the uniform of a British officer
and a military cloak.)

Ah, Mr. Anderson, I am glad to see you. Mr.
Smith, will you keep the boatmen near ? They will
be needed presently to return Mr. Anderson to the
ship.

[Exit Smith.]

Andre. Sir, the time has come to drop the names
assumed for correspondence. I am John Andre, a
Major in the British army.

Arnold. My name, I think, is known to you.

Andre. Yes, General Arnold, it has but recently
been divulged. And now to the point at once. I have
been sent by my superior officer, Sir Henry Clinton,

270 THE TREASON OF BENEDICT ARNOLD

to settle this matter — the betrayal of West Point
to the British.

Arnold. Call it not betrayal, Major Andre.
Rather do I feel that I am doing my country a serv-
ice in delivering her to England.

Andke. Ah !

Arnold. I no longer believe that America should
be an independent nation. I feel that her interests
are best served by forcing her to return to her al-
legiance to his Majesty. It is therefore, in behalf oi
my country that I propose to yield West Point to
General Clinton.

Andrie. And what is your price for this service ?

Arnold. Fifty thousand dollars in gold.

Andre. I am authorized to agree to that sum,
providing you give us proof of your good faith in
the matter.

Arnold {producing papers). I have here a com-
plete report of the military condition of West Point
— a description of the works ; an estimate of forces
now at the fort; a report on cannon, small arms, and
ammunition — in fact, everything that is necessary.
\_Andr^ take's papers and looks through them.']

Andre. You have some three thousand men, I
see. You must arrange to weaken your force when
our fleet ascends the river.

Arnold. I shall send detachments out through
the mountains under pretense of meeting the en-
emy.

THE TREASON OF BENEDICT ARNOLD 271

Andre. It seems that everything is in readiness,
then.

Arnold. Everything. I will, of course, make
some show of resistance, but will surrender on de-
mand.

Andre. In your letters you have repeatedly affirmed
that the surrender of West Point means the sur-
render of the nation.

Arnold. There is no doubt of that. The country
is bankrupt ; Washington's army has suffered severe
defeats ; Congress needs only this blow to proclaim
allegiance to England.

Andre. Suppose our plans should miscarry ?

Arnold. Failure is next to impossible. For months
I have worked on the details.

Andre. On what day, then, shall our fleet set
sail?

Arnold. At once. General Washington is at pre-
sent away from his army ; he has gone to the east
for a conference with the French Generals. The at-
tack should be made during his absence — say in four
days from now, on the twenty-fifth of September.

Andre. Our fleet is in readiness now and wait-
ing for my signal. We will then agree upon the
twenty-fifth of September.

[The boom of cannon is heard. Arnold and
Andre show alarm.)

What is that? Where is that cannon ?
[Smith rushes in.]

i872 THE TREASON OF BENEDICT ARNOLD

Smith. They are firing on the Vulture from
Verplanck's Point !

Andre, Is this treachery, General Arnold ? Have
you arranged to keep me within, your lines ?

Arnold. No — no ! It is done without my con-
sent !

[^Cannon heard again and againJ]

Andre. The Vulture is dropping down the
river ! Look ! Look ! Her lights are growing fainter !

Arnold. This is unfortunate — most unfortu-
nate!

Andre. There is one hope — she will not go far
— only beyond reach of the cannon. She will wait
for my return.

Arnold. You should go immediately, sir. The
firing has ceased for the moment.

Andre {to Smith). The boat, sir ! I will depart.
{Exit Smith.)

One change in our plans already — I wonder if
there will be others.

Arnold. I could not anticipate this event —
Verplanck's Point had only one small cannon — I
refused to send them others.

\_Enter Smith.]

Smith. The boatmen refuse to go out again.

Arnold. They must go ! Tell them I command
them!

Smith. The firing frightened them — they have
run away.

THE TREASON OF BENEDICT ARNOLD 273

• Andr^. Other boatmen must be found! I will
pay any price — any price they ask !

Smith. There is no one who would venture now
— of that I am positive.

Arnold. There is only one course open to you, sir,
and that is to join the British troops near Tarrytown.

Andr^. And go by land ?

Arnold. It is the only thing possible now. You
can cross the river at King's Ferry and thence down
by the east side.

Andre. But I am in uniform —

Smith. I will provide a citizen's coat.

Arnold. Fetch it then, immediately.
\_Exit Smith.'\

Andre. I like not to disguise myself.

Arnold. You cannot enter the American lines
in the uniform of a British officer.

Andre. No, but disguised, I might be judged a

spy-

Arnold. This pass with my signature will take
you through the American lines. You will travel
as one John Anderson, a merchant, on your way
to New York for trade.

Andre. Another change in our plans, which but
a half-hour since seemed perfect.

[He folds the papers."]

Arnold. I would not advise you to take those
papers, Major. You can memorize them in a moment
and give their contents to General Clinton orally.

274 THE TREASON OF BENEDICT ARNOLD

Andre. Yes, that is true. — No, I will take them. '
They will be pledge of our agreement.

Arnold. There is danger in it — great danger j

Andre. There is danger, but there is greater
danger of doubt, misunderstandings, and confusion
in a merely oral report. I will conceal these papers
as well as I may.

\^He slips the papers into his hootsJ]

Arnold. In case of accident I ask you to destroy
them.

{Enter Smith with a citizen's coat. Andr6 puts
it on, giving his military cloak to Smith, who goes
with it. Arnold produces a paper.)

Here are full directions for your route by land.
I prepared it against the event of just such mis-
chance as this.

\_Andre takes paper, showing suspicion."]

Andre. It would almost seem that you expected
this to happen.

Arnold. You certainly do not distrust me —

Andre. Do I take this road to the right ?

Arnold. Yes, follow it to King's Ferry.

Andre (coldly). The day breaks — I must hasten.
'[He goes without so much as a glance at Arnold.]

ACT III

Scene I

Time : the following day ; morning.
Place : the highway near Tarrytown.

THE TREASON OF BENEDICT ARNOLD 275

\^The road is s'een with a dense thicket on either
side. Enter John Paulding, a sturdy young Amer-
ican farmer. Me wears the red coat of a British
soldier, hut the coat is old and ragged. He walks
rapidly.]

Voices (of). Halt!

\_Paulding halts instantly. Enter, from thicket,
Isaac Van Wart and David Williams, young
American farmers. They carry muskets, which
are leveled at Paidding. They look at him, lower
guns, and laugh.]

Paulding. David ! Isaac ! This is a splendid way
to welcome me home !

Van Waet. We did n't know you in your British
coat!

Williams. We thought you were still a prisoner
in the British camp.

Paulding. I have just escaped.

Williams. How did you get away ?

Paulding. I exchanged clothes with a British
soldier — that is, I traded a good suit for this ragged
old coat.

Van Wakt. And then you watched your chance?

Paulding. Exactly — I walked out unsuspected.

Van Wart. That was clever of you, John Pauld-
ing.

Paulding. British prisons are not pleasant places
to visit. But why are you here with muskets ?

Van Wart. We are watching for cowboys.

276 THE TREASON OF BENEDICT ARNOLD

Paulding. Have they begun to steal from you V

Van Wart. They are stealing our cattle every
day and driving them to the British.

Williams. They are nothing but thieves and rob-
bers. They care not which side wins.

Van Wart. They are glad of the chance war
gives them to forage where they will.

Paulding. I'll join you in your attack on them !
Have you an extra musket ?

Williams. Yes, in the thicket there.

Paulding. But why are you so close to the Brit-
ish lines?

Van Wart. To prevent our cattle being driven
there, and to stop all suspicious characters.

Williams. We allow no stranger to pass until
we know his errand.

Paulding. Have you the right to do this ? You
do not belong to the army.

Van Wart. A new law was passed recently — a
law that makes this valid. There has been too much
plundering of American homes, too much traffic
with the enemy.

Paulding. That there has ! And it is every man's
duty to stop it, be he soldier or farmer, merchant or
magistrate.

Others. Aye !

Williams (looking off ). Sh ! A traveler —

Van Wart {looking off). He's stopping at the
creek -;- he seems uncertain which way to go.

THE TREASON OF BENEDICT ARNOLD 277

Paulding {looking off). Look — quick — his
watch — do you see ? It is gold — just like those
carried by British officers.

Others. Yes — yes !

Paulding. His boots, too, are like the boots
worn by British officers.

Williams. No one else can a£Eord such boots
these days.

Van Wart. See ! He is consulting a paper!

Williams. We must stop him as he tries to
pass.

Paulding. Where is that extra musket ?

.Williams. In that thicket to your right.

Pauldin(^. I'll get it while you call him to
halt.

\_IIe enters thicket. The others step behind trees.
Enter Andre ; he is consulting a paper as he
passes. Williams and Van Wart step out with
muskets leveled at him.']

Both. Halt!

\_Andr^ stops.]

Williams. Where do you journey, stranger ?

Andre. I travel to New York.

Van Wart. You are very near the British lines,
so I '11 just ask your errand.

Andrib. I am a merchant.

Williams. What is your name ?

Andrei. John Anderson.

Van Wart. What is that paper in your hand ?

278 THE TREASON OF BENEDICT ARNOLD

Andre. A description of my route.

Williams. You do not know this country, then ?

Andke. I am not very familiar with it.

Van Wart. Have you ever made this trip be-
fore?

Andre. Only once.

Williams. Then you have only recently become
a merchant?

Andre. Yes — yes — recently.

[^nier Paulding with a musket. He still wears
his British coat.']

Paulding. Ah, boys, a stranger, eh ?

Andre (relieved). Ah ! So you belong to my
party after all !

Paulding. What party ?

Andre. The British.

Paulding. My coat would tell you that, sir.

Andre. Thank Heaven, I am once more among
friends ! I am rejoiced to speak to you frankly. I
am one of his Majesty's officers out in the country
on very particular business. I am lucky to meet you,
gentlemen.

Paulding. Sir, you have made a mistake. We
are Americans.

Andre (starting). Americans !

Paulding. Yes, and you are our prisoner !

Andre. So your coat was only a trick, then !
(He controls himself and laughs.)

Well, I supposed as much from the first* At least,

THE TREASON OF BENEDICT ARNOLD 279

I was uncertain, and so allowed you to think me
British. Here is my pass ; it will give you all par-
ticulars.

\_Paulding takes pass."]

Paulding {reading aloud). " Permit Mr. John
Anderson to pass the guards to the White Plains or
below it if he chooses, he being on public business
by my direction. B. Arnold, Maj. General."

Andbe. That settles the matter, friends. And
now permit me to pass. My business is most urgent.
\_He turns to start off.']

Paulding. Stand!

Andre. What do you mean by detaining me
now?

Paulding {raising musket). Stand !

{Paidding whispers aside with Williams and
Van Wart, hut guards Andre constantly.)

Stranger, we can't quite accept that pass of yours.

Andbe. There is General Arnold's signature.

Williams. But passes have been counterfeited.

Van Wabt. And then you said that you were a
British officer.

Andbe, I have explained that — one must do such
things in war times.

Paulding {shaking head). JTes, but there are
many suspicious travelers on the roads these days.

Andbe. Gentlemen, I see I must confide in you.
I am a Continental officer. I am on my way to Dobbs
Ferry to get intelligence for General Arnold.

280 THE TREASON OF BENEDICT ARNOLD

Williams. You 've told too many different tales,
stranger.

Paulding. Boys, we ought to search him.

Others. Aye !

Andre, I will not submit to such indignity !

Paulding. We have no wish to offend you, but
it is our plain duty. Here, boys, go through him
thoroughly !

Andre. You will get yourselves into trouble, my
men.

Williams. If we are in the wrong, we will take
our punishment.

Others. Aye!
\_They search rapidly through Andre's clothing.']

Van Wart. No papers here !

Williams. Nothing here !

Andre. Then release me — I cannot be delayed.

Paulding. Boys, I am not satisfied. His boots
must come off.

Andre. No ! They are hard to get off — I beg
you not to subject me to this inconvenience and de-
lay!

Paulding. I am sorry, sir, but you must oblige
us.

Andre. But do^j't you see how you are detaining
the General's business ? He will be most indignant,
I promise you.

Paulding. Stranger, sit down.

Andre. I refuse —

'LOOK! A PAPER!"

282 THE TREASON OF BENEDICT ARNOLD

Paulding. Then we shall force you. Boys —

Andre (hastily). You need not.

\_Sits. Williams and Van Wart pull off his
hoots.']

Williams. Look ! A paper !

Van Wakt. And here are two !

\_They give papers to Paulding, who looks at
them and exclaims angrily. \

Paulding. He 's a spy !

Andke. No — no — I am not a spy !

Paulding [showing papers to his friends). Look!
This paper shows the number of men at West Point;
this one shows the number of cannon and small
arms. And here is a map of the fort and bat-
teries !

{He turns on Andre angrily.)

Where did you get these papers?

Andre. They were given me.

Williams. By whom ?

Andre. By an American.

Van Wart. No American would give out such
secrets unless he were a traitor !

Paulding. And who could get at such papers as
these ? No one but an of&cer !

Williams. Do you assert that one of our officers
gave you these ?

Andre. I assert nothing more than I have told
you.

Paulding. It is my opinion that this man has

THE TREASON OF BENEDICT ARNOLD 283

stolen into West Point in disguise and secretly mads
these drawings and maps.

Andee. I declare to you solemnly, sirs, that I am
not a spy. I affirm that these papers were given me
to carry to a certain person.

Pauldikg. It is useless for you to make excuses
Sir, you are our prisoner !

Andre. Here, take my watch !

Others. No !

Andre. I have no gold, but I can easily arrang(
to give it you. Come, I '11 give each of you one thou
sand guineas.

Paulding. No ! not if you gave each of us ten
thousand guineas !

Andre. I willgive you any sum you wish! I have
great wealth behind me.

Paulding. No, I tell you — no !

Andre {to the others). But you?

Van Wart. He speaks for me.

Williams. And for me.

Paulding. Come with us !

Andre. Where do you take me ?

Paulding. To North Castle — the nearest Ameri-
can post. Forward, boys !

\_They go, guarding Andre.']

Scene II

Time : the same day ; afternoon.

Place : North Castle, headquarters of the American
Commander^ Z/ieutenant- Colonel Jameson.

284 THE TREASON OF BENEDICT ARNOLD

[Andke stonc?s6e/bre Colonel Jameson. Pauld-
ing, Van Wart, and Williams are present, also
Ofmcbrs of Jameson's staff. All, except Andre, are
looking at Paulding, who is speaking. Jameson
holds the fatal papers.^

Paulding. And then, Colonel Jameson, we be-
came suspicious. At first he declared he was a mer-
chant ; then, upon seeing my British coat, he con-
fessed he was a British officer. Then, when he knew
that we were Americans, he said he was a Continen-
tal officer going down to Dobbs' Ferry to get infor-
mation for General Arnold.

Jameson. How did you obtain these papers ?

Paulding. We found them concealed in his boots.

Jameson (to Andre). Where did you get these
papers, sir?

Andee. Of a man at Pine Bridge.

Jameson. His name — at once !

Andre. He was a stranger to me.

Jameson. Did you know the nature of the
papers ?

Andre. I cannot disclose the secrets of another.

Jameson. Are you then a Continental officer ?

Andre. I am John Anderson, as my passport
declares.

Jameson. Why did you not say you were one of
our officers at first ?

Andre. I thought I had fallen among cowboys,
who would respect not even an officer.

THE TREASON OF BENEDICT ARNOLD 285

{Pause. Jameson looks at passport.)

Jameson. So you affirm that you are this person,
this John Anderson named here in this passport?

Andre. I affirm that I am John Anderson. Do
you not recognize General Arnold's signature ?

Jameson. Yes. There is no doubt of that.

Andre. Then, Colonel Jameson, you should free
me at once. I am on private business, which has
been delayed too long.

Jameson. Free you ! With these papers betray-
ing West Point ? No ! You shall remain in custody.

Andre. I ask you, then, to inform General Ar-
nold that John Anderson has been detained at your
post. May I count upon you to do this at once ?

Jameson. I shall write General Arnold immedi-
ately, not only of your detention here, but of these
dangerous papers you carry.

{He sits and writes. Pause. He seals letter and
turns to Andre.)

You say you took these papers from a man at
Pine Bridge?

Andre. Yes.

Jameson. Did you take them by force or by
previous agreement?

Andre. I cannot answer such questions. Colonel.

Jameson. Come, come, sir ! I desire you to tell
all the particulars of your meeting with this man.

Andre. That is impossible — I have said that I
cannot betray the secrets of another.

286 THE TREASON OF BENEDICT ARNOLD

Jameson. Then, sir, I shall send you to a higher
officer. He will compel you to speak without re-
serve. Lieutenant Allen, conduct this man to Gen-
eral Arnold.

{Andre shows satisfaction aside.)

Take a strong guard with you. You will deliver
this letter to General Arnold himself.

( The Lieutenant takes letter and goes with Andre.
Jameson turns to the three young patriots.)

Gentlemen, you have done your country a great
service. I rejoice that I have such countrymen. Give
me your hand, sir — and yours — and yours. lam
honored, sirs, to know you. Go now to your homes;
you will be needed to testify later.

{The young men go. Jameson looks through the
papers again.)

Officers, these papers must go to General Wash-
ington at once. {To an Aide.) I entrust them to
you. Guard them as you would your life.

Aide {taking papers). I will deliver them to his
Excellency.

Jameson. General Washington is not at his
headquarters on the Hudson now ; he may be
found at Hartford. Go with the greatest haste
possible.

[Exit Aide with papers. Enter Second Aide.]

Second Aide. Major Tallmadge has just returned.
He begs to see you at once, Colonel.

Jameson. Admit him.

THE TREASON OF BENEDICT ARNOLD 287
{Aide crosses to door and admits Major Tall-

MADGE.)

Ah, Major Tallmadge — I am glad to see you
again at North Castle.

Tallmadge. I was relieved from duty at White
Plains, so returned immediately. Is this rumor true,
of the capture of a British spy, who had papers be-
traying West Point — a man by the name of An-
derson ?

Jameson. It is true — at least, a man was taken
with such papers. But his passport was signed by
General Arnold.

Tallmadge. What about the papers? Did you
notice the writing in them?

Jameson. Thatpoint troubles me, Major. Itseemed
very like Arnold's ; but that, of course, is impossible.
I have sent them to General Washington, and I
wrote General Arnold at once and sent the prisoner
to him.

Tallmadge. You wrote Arnold ! You sent the
prisoner to him, you say !

Jameson. It seemed the only thing to do.

Tallmadge. It was the worst thing possible!
Colonel Jameson, I suspect Benedict Arnold himself.

Jameson. What ! You suspect the General ?

Tallmadge. I do. Who else would know the se-
crets of West Point?

Jameson. A spy might —

Tallmadge. Then a spy would not have papers

288 THE TREASON OF BENEDICT ARNOLD

written by Arnold himself. And here is anothei
suspicious point : a few days ago I received a let-
ter from Arnold requesting me, if a man by the
name of Anderson should come within the lines, to
have him sent to his headquarters at once.

Jameson. It is perplexing, I admit.

Tallmadge. Perplexing ! It is evidence of Ar-
nold's villainy. Sir, I am so certain that the traitor is
Arnold that I am willing to take upon myself the
entire responsibility of proceeding upon that ground.
I beg you to allow it !

Jameson. I will not sanction any action that im-
plies a disti-ust of Arnold.

Tallmadge. Then, sir, I beseech you to have the
prisoner brought back.

Jameson. But my letter to the General states
that I am sending the prisoner to him.

Tallmadge. The letter should be countermanded !

Jameson. No, that I will not do ! It is General
Arnold's right to be informed of this capture.

Tallmadge. It is only giving him a chance to
escape.

Jameson. General Arnold, I repeat, is not guilty.

Tallmadge. Well, then, the prisoner is, or at
least is implicated in the matter. You will not be
committing yourself if you recall the man. You
are only taking the safer course — no harm can be
done by caution.

Jameson {reluctantly). Well, I will send for him.

THE TREASON OF BENEDICT ARNOLD 289

( To Second Aide.) Overtake the prisoner — he must

be returned to this post.

\_Exit Aide. Enter Third Aide, with dispatches.']

Aide. Dispatches, Colonel Jameson !
lExit.]

Jameson {reading dispatches). General Washing-
ton has left Hartford ! He is now returning to his
headquarters.

Tallmadge. Then your message to him will be
delayed — he will not receive the papers in time.

Jameson. There will be only a few hours' differ-
ence. I cannot see that it will matter much ; we will
have the prisoner —

Tallmadge. It will give Arnold more time to
escape.

Jameson. General Arnold is above suspicion, Ma-
jor.

\_Enter Second Aide and Lieutenant Allen.]

Allen. The prisoner is here, Colonel j we had
barely started with him.

Jameson. Bring him in — I wish Major Tall-
madge to see him.

{Exit Aide ; returns at once with Andre, who
is guarded by two Soldiers.)

You will wait here, Mr. Anderson. Our plans
have been changed.

[Andre bows and paces back and forth. Jame-
son and Tallmadge confer aside, Tallmadge watch'
ing Andre closely.']

290 THE TREASON OF BENEDICT ARNOLD

Tallmadge. Colonel Jameson, the prisoner is a
military man.

Jameson. Why — how do you know that ?

Tallmadge. By his air and movements. Look
at the way he turns on his heel ! — a soldier's train-
ing.

[Jameson now observes Andre closely.l

Jameson. I believe you are right, Major. I will
hold him here till I have further orders, either
from General Washington or General Arnold.
Mr. Anderson, I give you this further oppor-
tunity to defend yourself. Have you anything to
say?

Andre (wearily). No — nothing.

Jameson. Sergeant, confine the prisoner in the
guard house. Take every precaution to prevent his
escape.

(Exit Sergeant with Andre and Soldiers.)

Lieutenant Allen, take my letter to General Ar-
nold.

Tallmadge. Colonel— do not send that letter —
I pray you !

Jameson (not heeding). Go with all dispatch.
\_Sxit Lieutenant with letter.']

ACT IV

Time : morning of /September 25th, 1780.
Place : hveakfant room in Arnold's home and head-
quarters, across the river from West Point.

THE TREASON OF BENEDICT ARNOLD 291

[Mrs. Arnold is arranging flowers for the ta-
ble, which is set for breakfast. General Arnold
walks lip and down anxiously.']

Mrs. Arnold. You seem anxious, Benedict. Has
anything serious happened?

Arnold. No — no — it is only that I am expect-
ing important dispatches today — it is the twenty-
fifth of September.

Mrs. Arnold. Was there to be a battle today?

Arnold. No — unless our forces should be sur-
prised.

Mrs. Arnold. Our forces? You mean West
Point ?

Arnold. Yes — West Point.

Mrs. Arnold. Why, do you think that possible?

Arnold. I have received information to that
effect.

Mrs. Arnold. But how could the British fleet
even ascend to West Point ? There are several forts
below —

Arnold {interrupting). Yes, but they have no
cannon, at least none that would be effective. For
instance, there is only one four-pounder at Ver-
planck's Point.

Mrs. Arnold. Cannon could be sent them from
West Point.

Arnold, There is no time — my information
has come too late — the fleet is to ascend the river
today.

292 THE TREASON OF BENEDICT ARNOLD

Mrs. Arnold. Does Colonel Livingston know?
But of course you have informed him.

Arnold. It is useless to arouse excitement until
I know whether the fleet has left New York. I am
expecting dispatches every minute.

Mrs. Arnold. The British must have known
that General Washington would be away at this time.

Arnold. No doubt, since they chose this day.

Mrs. Arnold. They must have a spy in the
American lines.

Arnold {hastily). I daresay — it is a common
practice.

Mrs. Arnold. Or perhaps there is a traitor in
General Washington's camp.

Arnold. It is possible 7- there are many who
are dissatisfied.

Mrs. Arnold. 'T is a detestable thing, no matter
what the reason.

Arnold. Yes, yes. Is not breakfast ready?

Mrs. Arnold. I will see to it immediately.
\^Exit. Enter Major Varick, an AideJ]

Varick. News, General, news !

Arnold. Why, what has happened ?

Varick. General Washington has returned !

Arnold. Returned!

Varick. Yes, three days sooner than he expected.
He comes to pay his respects to you before going
to headquarters. Two of his of&cers have arrived —
they are, in fact, dismounting.

THE TREASON OF BENEDICT ARNOLD 293

Arnold. Siiow them every attention, Major —
do everything for their comfort.

{Exit Major Varich.)

Can it be that Washington knows ? — and comes
to accuse me ?

{Enter Vaeick with Colonel Hamilton and
Major McHbnby. Arnold greets them graciously. )

Colonel Hamilton — Major — I am indeed glad
to see you ! His Excellency is on his way?

Hamilton. Yes, General, with Generals Lafay-
ette and Knox. They will arrive presently.

Arnold. I presume something unexpected has
occurred to bring the General back so suddenly ?

Hamilton. It may be — I do not know, General
Arnold. He announced that the conference had
ended.

^Enter Mrs. Arnold. She greets the Officers
with pleasure.^

Mrs. Arnold. Welcome, Colonel Hamilton !
Welcome, Major, welcome !

{Servants enter with the breakfast.)

You are just in time for breakfast. Come !

Arnold. General Washington is on the way.

Mrs. Arnold. Oh, then we will wait.

Hamilton. His Excellency bade me ask you not

to wait, Mrs. Arnold. He turned aside to inspect

a battery on the river. He may be delayed some time.

. Arnold. Then we will breakfast at once. Be

seated, gentlemen.

294 THE TREASON OF BENEDICT ARj^OLD

{They sit at table. Breakfast is sevafed. Pause.)

And the General, you say, has gone to inspect
a battery on the river?

Hamilton. Yes, General.

Arnold. Why this haste? L^ter I might have
accompanied him.

McHenry. I think the General is greatly dis-
turbed over the presence of the Vultttre in these
waters.

Arnold {starting). The Vulture! Ah — yes —
yes.

McHenry. She has been anchored just below
Verplanck's Point these four days now. Her pre-
sence there is mystifying.

Arnold. Yes — yes — I cannot understand it.

Mrs. Arnold. Perhaps she is waiting for some
one.

Hamilton. Why, who would go out to the en-
emy's ship ?

Mrs. Arnold. Some British spy —

Arnold {interrupting). No — no — that is im-
possible.

Mrs. Arnold. And yet, it might be done in the
dark of the night.

Arnold. 'T is impossible, I say, impossible. My
guard boats are too numerous.

\_Enter Major Franks, an Aide-I

Franks. A messenger, General — a letter for
you.

THE TREASON OF BENEDICT ARNOLD 295

Arnold (starting). A letter !

Franks. He says he must deliver it to you and to
you only, General. He comes from ColonelJameson.

Arnold. Admit him.

l^Exit Franks. He returns at once with Lieu-
tenant Allen. Arnold crosses to meet him. The
others talk and laugh aside.^

Allen [low voice). I bring you this letter from
Colonel Jameson, General.

[^Arnold reads letter hastily."]

Arnold (low voice). Do you know the contents
of this letter ?

Allen. Yes, General, the prisoner was in my cus-
tody for a time.

Arnold. Mention this to no one ! The matter
must be kept a secret until General Washington ar-
rives.

Allen. I shall be silent, sir.

Arnold. You may go — I will send an answer
later.

[Exit Allen. Arnold stands a moment with the
letter in his hand, showing great consternation. Con-
trols himself; crosses to table ; speaks pleasantly .)

Gentlemen, I am called to West Point. Certain

matters require my immediate attention. Colonel

: Hamilton, will you please tell General Washington

that I have been unexpectedly called away and that

I will return soon ?

[All rise and leave table.']

296 THE TREASON OF BENEDICT ARNOLD

Hamilton. I will deliver your message, General.

Vakick. Shall I not accompany you, General ?

Arnold. No, that is not necessary j but you may
order my horse, Major.

Major. At once.

lExit.']

Arnold (going). Adieu, gentlemen !

\_The Officers bow. Mrs. Arnold follows Ar-
nold to the door. The Officers retire to a window
and talk together aside.'\

Mrs. Arnold. Benedict — what has happened?
Tell me !

Arnold. I am — Come outside — I will tell you.

\_They go. Hamilton looks out window idly.']

Hamilton. The view from here is beautiful.

McHenry (looking). Yes, it is a delightful spot.
[^A faint scream is heardl]

Hamilton. What was that ? Did you hear ?

McHenry. Yes — it was a woman's voice.
\^They listen. Pause.]

Hamilton. Everything is quiet now.

McHenry. It could n't have been anything seri-
ous.

Hamilton. No, I think not.

(He looks out window again.)

There goes General Arnold now ! See him dash-
ing down the hill there !

McHenry (looking). He is riding like a madman !
(Enter Major Varick.)

THE TREASON OF BENEDICT ARNOLD 297

Is there anything amiss at West Point, Major?

Varick. If there is, General Arnold will stop it.
Nothing escapes him.

Hamilton. He is considered very skillful.

Varick. And combined with that, Colonel, is his
patriotism. It is unlimited — boundless!

McHbnry. That means something, coming from
the General's aide.

\_Enter Major Franks.]

Franks. His Excellency has arrived ! And Gen-
eral Lafayette and General Knox !

\He throws open the door. Enter General Wash-
ington. He is followed hy Generals Lafayette
and Knox. Exit Franks.]

Hamilton. Your Excellency, I give you Gen-
eral Arnold's welcome.

Washington {surprised). Is General Arnold ab-
sent?

Hamilton. He was called to West Point, Gen-
eral, but a moment since. He bade me express his
regrets to you and say he would return as soon as
possible.

Washington. Then I will not wait. I will go to
West Point and meet General Arnold there. But I'
wish first to pay my respects to Mrs. Arnold, Major
Varick.

Varick. I will advise her of your presence, Gen-
eral.

[Exit. Enter Major Franks.]

298 THE TREASON OF BENEDICT ARNOLD

Pranks. Your Excellency, a messenger has just
arrived from Colonel Jameson at North Castle, with
papers for you. He says they are most important.

Washington. Admit him. Major.

{Exit Franks. He returns at once with an Aide
who shows the effects of hard travel.)

You have letters from Colonel Jameson, sir ?

Aide. Yes, your Excellency, and these papers
also.

\_Gives letter and package to Washington. Exit.
Washington reads letter. '\

Washington. This is most serious ! A man has
been captured near Tarrytown with papers contain-
ing descriptions of West Point. Colonel Jameson
has sent me the papers.

{Opens package; looks at papers. He starts,
his cheeks flush.)

Gentlemen, this is treason !

Officers. Treason !

W AsnmGTON {showing papers). Look! The hand-
writing is that of General Arnold.

\_Enter Major Franks.]

Franks. A message for your Excellency !
\_Hands letter. Exit. Washington readsJ]

Washington. Gentlemen, the prisoner has con-
fessed his name and rank. He is Major John Andre,
Adjutant-General of the British Army. He came up
in the British man-of-war Vulture to get this intel-
ligence of West Point.

THE TREASON OP BENEDICT ARNOLD 299

{^Officers show astonishment. Enter Vaeick.]

Varick. General Washington, Mrs. Arnold, I
fear, cannot see you. She is in a grievous state.

Washington. Does she speak at all o£ Arnold ?

Vaeick. She cries out that he has gone away —
then weeps that she will see him no more — at pre-
sent she lies unconscious.

Washington. She must be tenderly cared for.
See to it. Major.

{Exit Varick.)

Officers, nothing more is needed to prove the
author of this infamous plot. The traitor is Benedict
Arnold ! He must be arrested at once ! He will
probably try to reach the Vulture.

Hamilton. Yes — I saw him when he rode away.
He went down the hill toward the landing.

Knox. He keeps his barge in readiness there,
for his journeys over to West Point.

Washington. Our only hope is to capture him
before he reaches the Vulture. Colonel Hamilton,
to horse at once ! Proceed with all speed to Ver-
planck's Point and intercept him if you can ! ^

Hamilton {going). And what if he refuse to
yield?

Washington. Order Colonel Livingston to can-
nonade him.

{Exit Hamilton.)

Alas ! Whom can we trust now ?

300 THE TREASON OF BENEDICT ARNOLD

ACT V

Time : September 30th, 1780.

Place : room in the Guard House at Tappan.

\_In the low-ceiled room Major Andre sits at a
table, drawing. Near him sits the Captain of the
Guard. Two Soldiers are on guard at the door.
Andre holds up his drawing and looks at it, then
hands it to the captain.']

Andre. Do you discover any likeness, Captain ?

Captain. Why, it is you, Major Andre !

Andre. Myself. I have always liked to draw,
and now it helps to while away these weary hours.

Captain. It is splendidly drawn. You are quite
an artist. Major.

Andre. Here is another sketch I have made.

Captain (looking). A water scene — three men
in a boat. Has it any special significance ?

Andr]6. It shows my passage from the Vidture
to the shore that memorable night.

Captain. Ah !

[^Paiise.']

Andre. Is the Court of Inquiry still in session,
Captain ?

Captain. Yes, Major Andre.

Andre. What do you think the result will be ?

Captain. There is great sympathy for you, but —
[^Hepauses.]

THE TREASON OF BENEDICT ARNOLD 301

Andre. Please speak frankly. Captain. You need
not fear to hurt me.

Captain. Then I can only remind you of the
fate of Captain Nathan Hale.

Andbe. But you surely do not consider his case
and mine alike ?

Captain. Yes, precisely similar.

Andre. But he was a spy and was hanged as
one. You cannot think that will be my fate ?

Captain. Yes, Major Andre.

Andre. It was against my will that I came within
the American lines. I was, in a way, betrayed into
the condition of an enemy in disguise. But . I had
no other motive than the service of my King — I
was an involuntary impostor.

Captain. General Washington has all these points
before him. They have been presented to the Court
of Inquiry, as you know ; and you, yourself, have
been allowed to plead your case before them.

Andre. Then what have I to fear?

Captain. The fact that you came to make ar-
rangements for the betrayal of our country.

Andre. But under a flag of truce, and sent for
by one of your own officers.

Captain. 'Tis he who should be in your place
today ! 'T is he who should be punished !

Andre. It is well for Arnold that he escaped to
the Vulture.

Captain. Major Andre, there is not an officer in

302 THE TREASON OF BENEDICT ARNOLD

our army who would not consent to exchange you
for Benedict Arnold.

Andre. It can't be done — General Clinton is a
man of honor ; he will protect General Arnold.
{Pause.)

Captain, if the worst should come to pass, will you
send General Washington this message?

Captain. I will do anything for you that a soldier's
honor will allow. Major Andre.

Andke. I have a mother and two sisters in Eng-
land. I should like them to know that, according to
the customs of war, I have done nothing dishonorable.

Captain. I assure you that General Washing-
ton will write them. Personally, he feels the greatest
sympathy for you.

Andbe. He has shown his kindness to me in
many ways.

\_Enter Andre s Servant with a tray, which he
places on the tdble.^

Servant. Breakfast, Major Andre! General Wash-
ington sent it to you from his own table.

Andre. I appreciate His Excellency's kindness.

[He sits and begins to eat. Miter Colonel
Hamilton with papers. He is very grave. Andr^
rises ; bows.)

Colonel Hamilton —

Hamilton. Major Andre, I have been commis-
sioned to report to you the finding of the Court of
Inquiry.

THE TREASON OF BENEDICT ARNOLD 303

■ {Andre bows, hut betrays no emotion. Hamilton
continues.)

Major Andre, the court finds that, according to
the law and usages of nationSj you are a spy, and
should suffer death.

[^e pauses.]

Andre. You do not say that General Washing-
ton has approved it.

Hamilton. His Excellency does approve and
has ordered your execution to take place tomorrow.

\_Andre merely glances at the order which Ham-
ilton offers him. He is calm and erect. His Ser-
vant sobs. The Officers and Soldiers are deeply
moved.]

Andre. It is well — I hope that I may die
bravely, as becomes a dutiful soldier.

THE MAN WITHOUT A COUNTRY

ACT I

Time : 1807 ; an afternoon in autumn.
Place : Officers^ room at Fort Massac, on the Mis-
sissippi Hiver, near New Orleans.

IjiIEUTENANT PhILIP NOLAN. An AiDE.

Aaron Burr. Cynthia Nolan.

General Morgan. Florence Morgan.

A Captain. First Girl.

A Sergeant. Second Girl.

A Corporal. Third Girl.
Officers and Soldiers.

[^Several young Officers are seen talking to-
gether. Enter the Captain.]

Captain. Where is Nolan ?

Sergeant. Oh, you can easily guess that, captain !

Captain. With Burr again, I suppose ?

Corporal. Burr has taken him down the river
in his flat-boat.

Captain. I can't understand that ! Nolan is only
a lieutenant. Why did n't Burr invite the General ?

Sergeant. That 's what we want to know.

Captain. Aaron Burr has been in New Orleans
two weeks. He has been giving dinners, luncheons,
excursions on the river, hunts up the bayou. Oh,

THE MAN WITHOUT A COUNTRY 305

you know all about it ? Yes, the papers have been
full of it ! And who has been invited to everything ?
The General?

All. No !

Captain. We officers ?

All. No, no !

Captain. No one but Nolan ! Nolan every time!

Corporal (looking off). Sh! Here's Nolan now!

IJEnter Philip Nolan, a dashing young fellow,
manly and sincere.l

Nolan (saluting). Officers ! Officers ! Officers !

All (coldly). Lieutenant !

Nolan. Never had such a splendid time in my
life ! I 've been down the river with Mr. Burr, you
know.

(Silence.)

Mr. Burr is the greatest man I ever knew ! Why,
New Orleans is going wild over him !

Sergeant. You seem to think the whole world is
wild over him.

Nolan. It would be if it knew him as I do.

Captain. Since you are so intimate with him,
suppose you tell us what he is here for.

Nolan. I don't know anything about Mr. Burr's
private affairs.

Captain. Well then, I '11 tell you. They say he is
trying to found an independent western empire, and
put himself in as king or emperor, or something of
that sort.

306 THE MAN WITHOUT A COUNTRY

Nolan. I don't believe it ! Aaron Burr was a
loyal soldier ! He is a loyal citizen !

CoKPOBAL. If he is so loyal, what is he doing
with an army back of him ?

Nolan. Do they say that, too?

All. Of course !

Nolan. It is n't true ! I don't believe one word
of it ! Have n't I been with him every day since he
arrived ? I 've heard nothing about an army or an
empire.

[Enter an Aide.]

Aide. Mr. Burr is asking for you, Lieutenant
Nolan.

Nolan. Mr. Burr ! Show him in ! '
\_Exit Aide.']

Captain. Come on, boys" ! The Emperor will want
his pet alone.

[Exit all hut Nolan. Enter Aaron Bueb.]

Nolan. Mr. Burr ! I am delighted! I did n't ex-
pect to see you so soon again, sir !

Bttrb. I have come to say good-bye, Philip.

Nolan. Good-bye?

BuBB. I have just received important dispatches.
I must go at once. My flat-boat is at the landing,
now.

Nolan. I appreciate your coming. Knowing you
has been the greatest thing in my life, Mr. Burr !

BuBB. I have made no secret of my affection for
you, Philip.

THE MAN WITHOUT A COUNTRY 307

Nolan. I do not feel worthy of it, sir.

BuBR. You are unconscious of your abilities, my
boy. You will make a great man if only you have a
chance.

Nolan. A chance ! Why, sir, I am the youngest
oMcer in the service ! Don't you count that a good
beginning ?

Burr. It will take you nowhere— lead to nothing,

Nolan. Lead to nothing — I don't understand —

Burr. I would speak plainly, Philip, but in
strictest confidence.

Nolan. Your words are sacred to me, sir.

Burr. You have the qualities of a leader, Philip,
and you should be out in the world of men where
you would be appreciated. You may spend your life
in the service and die unknown.

Philip. But I will have served my country, sir.

Burr. There are two sides to that question, my
boy. Suppose we walk outside. I have things of
great importance to say to you ; here, we may be
overheard.

Nolan. Come this way, sir.

\_They go. Enter General Morgan with an
Aide.]

General. Ask the Captain to come.

Aide. Yes, General.

[Exit. The General walks up and down anx-
iously. Enter the Captain.]

General. Captain, I have just received dispatches

808 THE MAN WITHOUT A COUNTRY

from Washington concerning Aaron Burr. He is
suspected of treason to his country.

Captain. Treason!

General. We are asked to watch him closely.
See to it, Captain ; have some one near him con-
stantly. And when he leaves, you may yourself
accompany him to New Orleans on one pretext or
another.

Captain. His arrest has not been ordered, Gen-
eral?

General. No, but I am expecting that, any min^
ute. The President is incensed with him. Report his
every move at once.

Captain. I will watch him myself. General.

\_Uxit. Miter Florence Morgan, a girl of sev-
enteen.^

Florence. Father, just one moment, please !
Some of my girl friends have come out from New
Orleans and would like to see the fort.

General. Are you sure they are not spies sent
by some enemy?

Florence. Father ! Why, one of them is Lieuten-
ant Nolan's sister ! She is visiting down here from
the North.

General (laughing). Show them everything, Flo-
rence. Or, if you will wait a moment, I will show
them around myself.

Florence. Oh, that is splendid, father! We'll
wait for you.

THE MAN WITHOUT A COUNTRY 309

{JExit General to his office. Enter Cynthia
Nolan and three other Girls.J

It's all right, girls! You are to see everything!
We are to wait for father here.

Cynthia. I wish Mr. Burr would go, so that
Philip could join us.

First Giel {looking off). They are coming here
— Mr. Burr and your brother, Cynthia.

Cynthia. Let's hide until Mr. Burr has gone.
Then we '11 all rush out on Phil.

Girls. Yes I yes !

[They hide in room. Enter Burr and Nolan.
The Captain is seen walking up and down out-
side.l

Nolan. And that's the way they treated you,
sir!

Burr. Yes, Philip. After years of service in the
war, I was cut off without even so much as a thank
you.

Nolan. It 's a disgrace to the country !

Burr. Do you blame me for my bitterness ?

Nolan. Blame you? Never, sir! I blame a service
that would treat you so ! And I blame a country that
would have such a service !
[The Captain pauses by the window, listening.']

Burr. I wish that you would leave it, Philip.

Nolan. I'd like to, sir ! Your wrongs have made
me hate the army, and almost hate the Govern-
ment.

310 THE MAN WITHOUT A COUNTRY

Burr. If you could come to me, I 'd make a great
man of you, Philip. I have certain plans for the
future ; plans I cannot tell you now. But any day I
may send for you. Will you come ?

Nolan. I 'd follow you to the ends of the earth,
sir!

Burr. I '11 count on you, then ! And now, mj
boy, good-bye ! You '11 hear from me soon. Good-bye!

[JExit. Philip follows to door and waves Ms
cap. The Girls come forward, as the Captain en-
ters. Enter the General /rom his office, followed
hy the other Officers.]

Captain. Burr has just gone to his flat-boat,
General.

\_Nolan comes forward-l

General. Follow and take him prisoner ! We
have orders now for his arrest. Take a squad with
you, Captain. Burr's flat-boat is well manned and
armed, I hear.

[_Exit Captain.']

Nolan. Aaron Burr — under arrest!

General. You were with him constantly, and
perhaps aided him in his treachery. So, Lieutenant
Nolan, I hereby order you under arrest. Sergeant,
take the prisoner's arms. A court-martial will be
held at once.

[Nolan gives up his arms.)

Officers, retire and prepare to open court. Ser-
geant, take in the prisoner.

THE MAN WITHOUT A COUNTRY 311

{Exit Officers to adjoining room. The Sergeant
follows with Nolan. The Captain enters.)

Well, Captain ?

Captain. We were just in time, General. I put a
strong guard over him on his boat.

General. That is well. Come — a court-martial
is in session.
[Exit General and Captain to adjoining room.']

Cynthia (sobbing). Philip was always so proud of
being a soldier ! That Aaron Burr is the cause of
this !

Floeencb. I believe that, too, Cynthia.

Cynthia. He 's turned Phil's head completely.

Flobbncb. I think father realizes that, but I'm
sorry he said he hated the army and wished he were
out of it.

Cynthia. Oh, I 'm sure Phil did n't mean that !
He was excited — anyway, the General did n't hear
him.

Florence. No, but the Captain did.

Cynthia. It will kill mother if anything happens
to Phil.

\_She weeps. Florence comforts her. The other
Girls speak aside.]

First Girl. I 'm afraid it will go hard with Phil.

Second Girl. General Morgan is a stern old pa-
triot.

Third Girl. They say he hates a fraitor as much
as he loves the flag.

312 THE MAN WITHOUT A COUNTRY

[^Enter the Sergeant with Nolan and a guard of
SoLDiEBS. Door to adjoining room is left open.'\

Nolan {angrily). Why does n't he believe me ! I
told him I did n't know Burr's plans. Might as well
have talked to a stone ! That's your United States!

( The General enters from the adjoining room.
Hearing Nolan, he pauses on the threshold.)

That for the United States ! {Snapping fingers.)
I wish I might never hear of the United States
again !

Cynthia. Philip !

General {from open door). Those are strong
words, Lieuteilant.

[He re-enters inner room, closing door.^

Nolan {defiantly). I 'd like to cudgel that Captain
and the rest of them too, except the General. Every
word I ever said in jest was brought up against me.
They're all jealous of me — I've thought that for a
long time. If Burr had paid them any attention —

Cynthia. Oh, but Philip, if only you had n't said
you hated the army and wished —

Nolan. I did n't really mean that, Cynthia. I was
just indignant over Burr's wrongs.

\_Enter General Morgan and Officers.]

General. Philip Nolan, hear the sentence of the
Court ! The Court decides, subject to the approval
of the President, that you never hear the name United
States again. The rest of your life will be spent on
shipboard. You will never be g,llowed to land, nqr

• PHILIP NOLAN, HEAK THE SENTENCE OF THE COURT I '

S14 THE MAN WITHOUT A COUNTRY

to see nor to hear any news from or of your country.
You are henceforth a man without a country. You
may bid your friends farewell.

Nolan. Say good-bye to mother for me, little sis-
ter.

Cytstuia {clinging to him). Philip! My brother !
My brother !

General. Sergeant, take the prisoner to the na-
val commander at Orleans. Make my respects to
Lieutenant Mitchell at Orleans, and request him to
order that no one shall mention the United States
to the prisoner while he is on board ship, pending
the action of the President.

[7%e Sergeant touches Nolan on the shoulder.
Nolan turns to go with him.']

Cynthia. Philip ! Philip !

ACT II

Ttihf, : ten years later.

Place: on hoard the

'■'■Levant" off the Winduoard

Islands.

Philip Nolan.

First Midshipman.

Captain Shaw.

Second Midshipman.

Julius Pons.

Third Midshipman.

First Officer.

Fourth Midshipman.

Second Officer.

Fifth Midshipman.

Third Officer.

Sixth Midshipman.

Fourth Officer.

Seventh Midshipman.

Fifth Officer.

Eighth Midshipman.

Officers, Midshipmen.

THE MAN WITHOUT A COUNTRY 315

ISome eight Midshipmen are seen on deck, look-
ing out over' the sea.]

First Midshipman. It 's the Warren, boys !

Second Midshipman. She's outward bound —
for a cruise of the Mediterranean, I say !

Third Midshipman. She 's casting anchor ! That
means mail from home, boys !

Fourth Midshipman (calling). Mail, .middies !
mail from home !

[Unter Julius Pons and other Midshipmen /rom
all parts of ship. ^

All. Mail! Mail! Hurrah!

Fifth Midshipman. They 're sending off the
boat, now !

Sixth Midshipman. It 's piled up high with mail
bags !

Seventh Midshipman. It 's our Christmas mail,
boys!

Eighth Midshipman. Aye ! our Christmas mail,
and presents !

All. Hurrah ! Hurrah !

First Midshipman. That makes it bad for our
mess. You know Plain Buttons dines with us today.

Second Midshipman. Let's see — the Captain
had him Monday ; Mess A had him Tuesday : Mess
B, Wednesday — yes, it 's our turn today.

Third Midshipman. Well, that means we can't
talk about our letters from the States.

Fourth Midshipman. Or home, or the folks.

316 THE MAN WITHOUT A COUNTRY

Fifth Midshipman. I 'd just as soon be dead as
not talk about the home folks when the Christmas
letters come.

Sixth Midshipman. Sh ! Here comes Plain But-
tons !

\_Miter Nolan, sad mid dejected."]

Nolan. Good morning, boys.
( The Midshipmen salute him with respect.)

I thought I heard some hurrahs. What is the
excitement ?

l^Pause. The Boys look at each other in embar-
rassment.]

Julius. Our — our — it 's our mail from — from
the Warren, Mr. Nolan.

Nolan. Ah!

[Pause.]

Seventh Midshipman. Fine weather, sir.

Nolan. Very.

Eighth Midshipman. I think we shall have fog
tonight, sir.

Nolan. I should not be surprised.

\_Pause. Enter the First Officer loith mail.]

Officer {giving letters and packages). Simpson !
Tanner! Wilson! E. Smith! Hunt! Brown! J.
Smith ! F. Smith ! Here — -and here — and here —

[Gives mail to every one except Nolan and goes.
The Boys open letters and packages.]

First Midshipman [showing a red silk hand-
kerchief). Look what mother sent me, boys !

THE MAN WITHOUT A COUNTRY 317

Second Midshipman. Just look at this pincush-
ion ! Mother made it for me !

Fourth Midshipman. Look at these socks, will
you ! Father sent them !

First Midshipman. Here 's a tidy for my rocking-
chair !

Midshipmen. Rocking-chair ! Ha, ha !

First Midshipman. My grandmother made it !
She saw Aaron Burr's flat-boat once. Guess she
thinks a man-of-war is Uke that. Bless her dear old
heart !

Julius. What became of Aaron Burr, any-
way?

\_JVolan rises, showing excitement.']

First Midshipman. Why, don't you know? He
was tried for treason and —

Second Midshipman (indicating Nolan). Sh !

First Midshipman. Oh ! Ah — ah — fine day,
Mr. Nolan.

Nolan. Very.

Third Midshipman. I think we shall have fog
tonight, sir.

Nolan. I should not be surprised.
[Nolan is left alone. The others talk aside.']

Julius. What did become of Burr ?

First Midshipman. He was cleared — got ofE
scot free.

Julius. And poor Nolan there has n't been al-
lowed to even hear anything about his home for

318 THE MAN WITHOUT A COUNTRY

ten years ! It 's a shame ! I say he did n't really
mean those words when he said them.

First Midshipman. Of course he did n't ! I 've
seen him kiss the flag when he thought no one was
looking.

Julius. You have!

[He crosses to Nolan.)

I say, Mr. Nolan, here 's a fine shell I found
yesterday.

Nolan. It is a rare specimen, Julius.

Julius. It 's for your Christmas, sir.

Nolan. Thank you, Julius, thank you. Wouldn't
you like me to help you with your mathematics,
Julius ?

Julius. Indeed I should, sir !

Nolan. Come to my stateroom whenever you
can— today, if you wish.

Julius. But perhaps you'll be exchanged, sir.
The Warren is outward bound.

Nolan. I have been exchanged seven times these
last ten years, Julius. I have reason to believe there
will be no more of that. I am on my homeward
voyage, my boy. I 'm sure of it !

Julius. Of course you '11 be glad, sir.

Nolan. Glad! Would you be glad, youngster,
if you had n't beard one word from home for .ten
years ? Listen, my boy ! — if you are ever tempted
to say a word or do a thing that might put a bar
between you and your family, your home, and your

THE MAN WITHOUT A COUNTRY 319

country, pray God in His mercy to take life from
you. Think of your home, boy, and write and talk
about it. And no matter what happens to you, no
matter who flatters or abuses you, never look at
another flag. Remember, boy, that behind officers
and government there is a Country herself — your
Country, and that you belong to her as you belong
to your own mother. And stand by her, boy, as you
would stand by your mother !
Julius. I will, sir ! I will !
\_They talk aside. Enter several Officers.]
Second Midshipman [to Second Officer). I 'd like
to speak with you, sir.

Second Officer. What'sthe trouble, Johnston?
Second Midshipman. You see this book, sir ? It's
my Christmas present from home, sir.

Second Officer. Ah, yes — The Lay of the
Last Minstrel. That 's by Mr. Scott.

Second Midshipman. Might I ask Mr. Nolan to
read it aloud, sir ? He often reads to us, sir.

Second Officer. I wonder if there is anything
in it about home ? I can't remember a line of it.
{To other Officers.)
What about letting Nolan read this to the men ?
Do any of you know the poem?

Third Officer. It 's all magic and chivalry and
happened ten thousand years ago. I don't see how
there could be anything in it about the United
States.

320 THE MAN WITHOUT A COUNTRY

Fourth Officer. There couldn't be!

Fifth Officer. It 's all right — go ahead !

Second Officer. Mr. Nolan, will you not read
aloud to us? It is always a pleasure to hear you.

Nolan. I shall be pleased. But I have never read
this poem before — I fear I shall do it badly.

Second Midshipman. Oh, that's all right, sir!
You might just read parts from it here and there.

Nolan. Then I'll open the book by chance.

{Taking book and opening it in middle, he reads
aloud.)

Breathes there the man, with soul so dead,
Who never to himself hath said,
This is my own, my native land?

{Nolan chokes, and pauses a moment. The Offi-
cers and Men show emiarrassment. Nolan pro-
ceeds with trembling voice.)

Whose heart hath ne'er within him burned,
As home his footsteps he hath turned

From wandering on a foreign strand ?
If such there breathe, go, mark him well ;
For him no minstrel raptures swell —

\_Nolan stops with a sob ; then throws the book
into the sea. Enter the Captain.]

Captain. Ah, Nolan, I was looking for you.

Nolan. Yes, Captain.

Captain. The Warren has brought a letter con-
cerning you, Mr. Nolan.

\^He pauses.'^

THE MAN WITHOUT k COUNTRY 321

Nolan. Yes, sir ?

Captain. Your transfer, Mr. Nolan.

Nolan. Transfer! — Again?

Captain. You are to be changed to the Warren,
■which is outward-bound for a two years' cruise. You
will please get ready at once. 1 am sorry, Philip.

\_JIe grasps Nolan^s hand and turns away to
hide his emotion.^

Nolan (going). God pity me !

ACT III

Time : ten years later.

Place: on board the "Levant," Bay of JSFaples.

Philip Nolan.
Captain Shaw. Julius Pons.

Commodore Poster. Mrs. Graff.

American Ladies, American Officers, English
Officers, Musicians.

[/w various groups on deck are seen the Ladies
and Officers. Enter Julius Pons, now an offi-
cer I\

Julius. Shall I have the musicians come up now.
Captain ?

Captain. I am waiting for the Mission's officers.
You sent them an invitation, did you not ?

Julius. As soon as she had anchored.
l^Enter an Officer.]

322 THE MAN WITHOUT A COUNTRY

Officer. Captain, the officers of the Mission
have just arrived, and with them is Philip Nolan.

Captain. Nolan !

Officer. Nolan. The Mission is homeward
bound, so Nolan is transferred to us.

Captain. I '11 be glad to see him, but it 's going
to be awkward to have him here tonight. I am afraid
our guests may give him intelligence of home.

Officer. Is he to be kept apart from them. Cap-
tain ?

Captain. I dislike doing that ; it would pain him.
And yet, he must not mingle with them. Our orders
are very strict on that point.

Julius. We officers can talk with him in a friendly
way, taking it turn about till the guests have gone.

Captain. It might be managed in that way with-
out hurting him.

{Enter Nolan with several Officers.)

Welcome ! Welcome ! I'm glad to see you, Philip.
It seems just yesterday you left us.

Nolan. Ten years ago this Christmas, Captain !

Captain. Well, gentlemen, I call this downright
luck that we should all meet for Christmas again.
There is an English ship in port ; her officers are
our guests tonight. The ladies are Americans who
happen to be visiting now in Naples.

[J%e Officers join the group.']

Julius. Have you forgotten me, Mr. Nolan?

Nolan. What ! Julius ? Little Julius an officer ?

THE MAN WITHOUT A COUNTRY 323

Captain. An officer and a fine one. And I have
some one else aboard you will be pleased to meet —
Commodore Porter. You were on his ship during
that naval battle.

Nolan. Yes, Captain.

Captain. We heard of your bravery, Nolan, and
we were proud of you. Here comes the Commodore
now to speak with you.

[^Enter Commodokb Porter.]

Commodore. Nolan ! This is an unexpected
pleasure !

\_They shake hands. The Captain goes.]

Nolan. Any ship may be my home, Commo-
dore.

Commodore. Well, it shall not be so always,
Philip. I have myself written to the Secretary of
War, asking for your pardon.

Nolan. Commodore!

Commodore. We could never have won that bat-
tle without you. The odds were all against us. It
was your courage that inspired the men. I said so
too, in my dispatches. And I told them that I gave
you my own sword as an honor that was due you.
Where is that sword, Nolan ? Why are you not
wearing it ?

Nolan. I feel I have no right to a sword now,
Commodore.

Commodore. Wear that sword, Nolan. No officer
has a better right.

324 THE MAN WITHOUT A COUNTRY

Nolan. Do you expect to hear from Washington
soon ?

Commodore. By any mail, and I fully expect your
pardon.

Nolan. I hope for it ! Ah, how I hope for it !

{Ladies and Officers approach. Nolan faces Mes.
Graff. Julius tries to step between thein, hut is too
late.)

Miss Morgan ! I hope you have not forgotten
me !

Mrs. Graff. I am now Mrs. GrafE, Mr. Nolan.

Nolan. Pardon me, what do you hear from —
from home ?

l^Pause.']

Mrs. Graff. Home ! I thought you were the man
who never wanted to hear of home again !

l^She turns away. There is an awkward pause.
Enter the Captain.]

Captain. You speak Portuguese, don't you, No-
lan?

Nolan. A little. Captain.

Captain. The officer below would like you to in-
terpret for him, if you will.

Nolan. I '11 do my best.

[He goes^

Captain {to all). We have several slaves below,
rescued them from a rascally schooner yesterday. And
now they are making a great fuss, no one knows
what about. We can't understand them, and they

THE MAN WITHOUT A COUNTRY 325

can't understand us. I think Nolan can quiet
them.

{Enter the Musicians; they prepare to play.
Enter Nolan.)

Well, Philip? What do they say ?
. Nolan. They say they can never get home from
Cape Palmas, where you are taking them ; it is too
far away — as far as Rio Janeiro. They say, " Take
us home, take us to our own country, take us to our
own houses, to our pickaninnies and wives !" One
says he has an old father and mother who will die
if they do not see him. Another says he has not
heard a word of his wife and children for six months.
And all of them are begging on their knees to be
taken to their homes.

\_Nolan breaks down and covers his face withhis
hands. All are deeply affected.']

Captain. Tell them yes, yes, yes ! Tell them they
shall go to the moon if they will ! Tell them they
shall go home — every one of them !

[^Nolan goes. The women are weeping. The men
wipe the tears from their eyes. Nolan reenters.']

Mrs. Graff. Philip, I want to answer you now.

Captain. No, Mrs. Graff ! Remember our orders !

Mrs. Graff. Ah, but I will ! Philip, your mother
is dead.

[Nolan hows his head. Pause.]

Nolan. And — and my sister ?

Mrs. Graff. Praying hourly for your return.

326 THE MAN WITHOUT A COUNTRY

l_IInter, an Officer with a letter.']
Officer. Dispatches from Washington, Common
dore!

[^Commodore reads letter.]
Commodore (with hesitation). This concerns you,
Nolan — it's an answer to my request for your free-
dom.

\_ire pauses.]
Nolan. What is it ? Speak, I pray you !
Commodore. The Department refuses to pardon
you, Philip.

Nolan (faintly). Refuses —
Captain. It is cruel !
Nolan. Nay, it is justice.

l^He kisses the flag.]